War of the Exes
by writergirl8
Summary: It's natural for them to lie. For him to say that he's not in love. For her to say that she hasn't spent every day missing him. But with help from food fights, family, and fake fiancees, they might be able to find their way back to each other.
1. Chapter 1

"I can't do this, Ron! We keep having the same fight! I can't keep having the same fight!"

Her voice was high and out of control, and hearing her out of control made Ron feel out of control. When he looked into her eyes, all he could see was the naked panic that lay there. Cool, composed Hermione Granger was going into freak-out mode. He had never seen her like this. She was always the calm one in their relationship. It was that realization that cued Ron in to what was about to happen before it did. Even so, he had to ask.

"What are you implying?"

She looked at him through her tear filled eyes, and he knew that his heart was not the only heart breaking in that moment. But she couldn't not say it. She thought that hurting the both of them was the best for everyone. And so she walked up to Ron and pressed her forehead against his. He attempted to not break down, but it was moot point. Tears splashed down the front of Ron's face and onto hers.

"I have to leave."

The whispered words floated from her mouth and into the air, circling Ron as if unsure what to do with themselves. Ron tried to ignore the salty tears falling into his mouth, tried to prevent the wail that he was sure must be coming.

"I love you so much, Ron," she said, and from the way her voice broke, he knew it was true. "But I can't stay."

They were both crying now. Ron engulfed her in his arms and she pressed her nose against his chest. She inhaled the way he smelled and let out another sob.

"Why? Why can't we make this work?" Ron asked quietly.

"Haven't we tried hard enough?"

"I love you. That should be enough."

"Then why do we keep arguing about this? You know I love you, Ron, not him."

"But he wants you!" Ron yelled, pulling back from her. She fell to her knees and watched him as uncontrollable rage consumed his being. His hand flew across the table and everything on it fell to the ground with a loud, satisfying noise. She winced, and Ron felt a grim satisfaction. He was falling apart. So should the rest of the world. Little by little, the flat, their flat, flew into disarray.

"Please," she begged, but it wasn't enough. She hid her head in her hands as his fist broke the glass table.

"FIVE YEARS!" exploded from Ron's mouth, and she finally got up and grabbed his arm.

"Ron, STOP IT!" she screamed. "Don't destroy this home. Don't destroy our home. Our place."

"Why shouldn't I?" Ron roared, and she winced again. "It so obviously means nothing to you. NOTHING!"

"No, no, Ron, stop! It means everything! You mean everything."

"Then why are you leaving?" Ron croaked, letting his guard down for the first time.

"Because you need to grow up a little bit! You need to learn to be able to see the gorgeous, talented, sensitive human being that I see every single day when I look at you."

Ron didn't say anything. A thousand words entered his mind, but none of them seemed good enough to describe that shattering of his heart.

"You promised you'd never leave me."

It took all of his strength and self control to sound as impassive as he did in that moment.

"And I'm so, so sorry to break that promise."

Tears splashed down the front of her shirt, and Ron could already see her beautiful brown eyes getting red around the edges. The part of him that loved her with every bit of his soul wanted to rush up to her, to tell her not to cry. It had always hurt him to see her cry. Tears did not belong on her angelic face. But the other, more vindictive and masochistic part of Ron wanted her to hurt like he was hurting. What she could do to him. That one girl had more control over Ron then he had over himself, and he'd readily- happily, even- given it to her. Ron slumped onto the couch and burrowed his head into his hands, letting the feeling of horror wash over him. She sank onto the couch next to him and placed her chin on his shoulder. Together, they mourned the end.

"This can't be... it," Ron whispered, turning to face her.

"It's not, Ron," she said, her tone matching his. "Somehow, when the time is right, we'll find our way back to each other."

"And what if we don't?"

"Then I'm a sodding idiot for letting you go in the first place," she answered. "But I think this break will be good for both of us."

"Where are you going to go?" Ron asked, praying that the name that slipped from her beautiful lips would not be his. His, the worst of all of them.

"I'm going to take the job that the French Ministry offered me. It's a good position. I'll stay with my cousins and I'll try not to spend every single moment I'm there thinking about you."

His mind flashed back to the night that she'd first told him about the position. He'd been so happy for her, but she'd shaken her head and shrugged her shoulders.

"I'm not going."

"Why?"

"I can't leave you."

"You mean I'm the only thing keeping you here?"

"Well, yes. You're more important to me than any job."

He was snapped out of his reverie as her lips moved to his ear, and Ron waited hungrily for the words to come, suddenly savoring every last precious second they were able to spend together.

"You're jealous and insecure, and sometimes you can be a total, complete prat." she told him. Ron swallowed. "But you're my prat, and I'll always come back for you. Unless you fall in love with someone else while I'm gone, I will be back."

Her hand slipped from his shoulder and fell onto her own hand. Slowly, she twisted the ring off, seemingly savoring every last second with it on.

"Don't," Ron said, his intense vulnerability drenched in his tone and haunting his face. "Keep it. Please. We're only on a break."

She looked startled, but she twisted the engagement ring back onto her finger nonetheless.

"Thank you," she whispered. She seemed glad not to part with it. Glad that she could still claim that she was Ronald Weasley's fiancée, even though they technically were not together. "When I come back, we'll set a date and actually go through with it."

"Two years," Ron's voice cracked. "Two years."

"It's not that long." came her pleading response, even though they both knew that it was. "And by the end of two years, you'll have realized that you are the most amazing man on the planet, the only one I could ever even consider giving up my surname for, and that I could never cheat on you with a hot-shot lawyer, or stupid Viktor Krum, or any other man, even if he got onto his knees and begged me." She released a hollow, bitter laugh. "It's always been you. No matter hard I tried to move on with someone else, it was always you. Always. There was no way around it."

If Ron had been strong enough, he would have screamed to her that he loved her, trusted her. He would have kissed her long and hard, savoring the taste of her lips, the scent of her skin, and the feeling of her body pressed against his. But Ron wasn't man enough at that moment. He didn't kiss her, tell her he loved her, or that he trusted her. Instead, Ron did what any man would do when he'd just gotten his heart stomped on and insides torn out by the girl he loved. He got up and followed her over to their- his, rather - room and wordlessly started handing her clothing to pack up. She took everything. By the time she was done, there was no sign that the woman he'd loved since he was fourteen had ever stepped foot in this place, much less lived there. Ron knew, without a doubt, that later that night, before he went to sleep, he would scavenge the whole flat for anything, anything at all that carried her scent. He would press the object against his nose and thank it a thousand times for existing. He would hold it as he fell asleep, mentally berating himself for anything and everything he had ever done wrong in his entire life when it came to her. And Ron would regret everything that had happened that day, hoping to god that he would wake up and realize that everything had been one sick dream. He'd tell her all about it, and she'd cover him in kisses and tell him not to be afraid. That she'd never leave. Just as she'd done so many times before. Just as he'd done for her so many times before.

He realized she was looking at him, and he was looking at her. And, as Ron stared into her amber eyes, drowning in his sorrow, in the pools of devastated brown, only one thought entered his mind. Two years. This is the last time I see her for two years. What do I do? Knowing the after almost instantly after he asked the question, he bent down and pressed his lips against hers, kissing her with everything he was worth. Ron wasn't sure if he'd ever pressed her so hard against him, or kissed her so furiously, so hungrily. So passionately, so urgently. He poured everything into that kiss, and she did the same for him. Neither of them wanted to pull away, knowing that this was that last kiss for two years, that this was goodbye. They had both nearly blacked out from lack of breath before she untangled her hands from Ron's hair, removed her lips from his, and backed away down the hall.

She opened the door. She took a step out. One, then two. Desperate for just a few more seconds with her, Ron spoke.

"I always knew you were going to break my heart."

She turned around, as Ron knew she would, and traitorous tears glistened in her eyes.

"It's funny. I never thought I'd break my own."

She turned around again and started walking.

"Hermione," Ron called out, and she turned around, smiling softly at the sound of his voice saying her name for the very last time. "I could never fall in love with anyone else."

And then, gathering all the courage and strength he had so lacked when simply fighting for her, Ron raised his hand and closed the door. It slammed shut with a satisfyingly loud noise, and he stared at it for quite a few seconds before turning away and leaning against the door.

What had he done? How could he have brought this upon himself? It was understandable, though. He'd always been jealous where Hermione was concerned. She was his blind spot, and a part of him would never know what to do around her. So much had changed since they had been innocent adolescents, but sometimes Ron felt like he had remained almost completely the same, unchanging and unmoving. He was still a slob. He was still a pig. He was still jealous. He still made demeaning jokes on the odd occasion. He still had severe confidence issues.

Then again, so did Hermione.

They were constantly reassuring each other that they did, indeed, have feelings for the other, constantly reminding the other why they loved them, and for how long. When one of them woke up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night, they were sometimes surprised to find the other one there for them. It was as though neither believed that they were good enough for the relationship, for the other person.

For Ron, it was how intelligent Hermione was, how successful, neat and put together. It was also how beautiful she was- he always felt that his looks never measured up to hers.

And then there was Hermione. Hermione, who didn't think she was funny enough to be with Ron. She thought she was too nerdy, too different. She was always working too hard or too late, and she thought that one day Ron would get sick of it and take off while she was gone. And, of course, she thought that Ron was much better looking than she was.

They were a mess, weren't they? Each had some severe issues that the other had to deal with, and yet they still worked. They still loved each other, and the fact was that no one was going to randomly wake up in the middle of the night and realize that they wanted to chuck the other, despite their worst nightmares. But Ron and Hermione being a couple... that didn't come easy. People needed time to change, and, while five years should have been enough, it wasn't. They had too many ghosts of the past, too many scars, both physical and emotional. War wasn't easy on anyone, but couples and families always seemed to have an especially difficult time. War could make or break you. And five years later, the second Wizarding War was still defining their lives.

Why had they thought they could do it, Ron wondered. Surely, he reasoned, their history wasn't enough. How had they thought it could be? And surely the present wasn't enough, either. Yes, they loved each other. But they both had flaws, flaws that they needed to grow out of before they could grow together. For he recognized, he had recognized long ago, that with Hermione around he had thought he didn't need to grow. Hermione had stuck with him when he was an obnoxious sixteen year old, she had forgiven him after he'd left her and Harry, she had seen him cry over Fred. Did he really need to change? She understood him, she was his other half, his soul-mate. It was selfish, he knew. Ron had been using the fact that he had known Hermione since he was eleven as a scapegoat. He had used it to be lazy, almost. She hadn't deserved that. But then, maybe she had somehow been using that too.

His head hurt now, worse than it had been before. Giving up on thinking, he walked over to their room, sat on the bed, and stared at the wall, where an array of photos of the happy couple lay. Unknowingly, they beamed at Ron, looking free and happy as they laughed and danced and kissed. Some of them were pictures of them from school, not yet as a couple but nonetheless as two teenagers in love. Ron wished that his younger self had known when he was taking the photo that it would later hang on the wall of his and Hermione's bedroom, site of many things a younger Ron could only dream of. He wondered how he would have felt, knowing that. Probably a little alarmed at the idea of such a large commitment, but happy at the prospect of everything else.

A time period that was obviously missing from the pictures was the one straight after the war. No one had been in the mood to document anything until almost two years had passed. The pictures had started up again after that. Photos of Ron and Hermione at the weddings of all his brothers, holding babies of Ron's family, and standing awkwardly in a still photo with both of their parents, Mr. Weasley looking hilariously enthusiastic. There were several pictures of them kissing, a picture of them hugging, a picture of Hermione saving a goal that Ron tried to get past her during a game of Quidditch. Hardest of all to look at was the one where he proposed. He'd done it a year ago, but they'd never actually bothered to do anything about it. It figured that Ron and Hermione would be one of the couples to get engaged and have it go nowhere. He never would have pegged himself for that kind of person, but, then again, he'd never pegged himself as the type of guy to fall for Hermione, either.

His favorite photo was a black and white one he had taken himself, playing with Hermione's muggle camera one day. It was set in a field behind Hermione's house, and you could see dandelions galore in the background. She was smiling serenely, her eyes focused on a book that she was reading. She was laying down on her stomach with her legs up in the air, bent at the knees, and a colorful summer dress flowing freely to her knees. A stray bit of hair hung down her face, and she looked relaxed, beautiful and peaceful. It was taken from the side, trained for Hermione to be the subject, so that the flowers in the background were a bit of a blur. And Ron loved it. Hermione said it was the pride that he took it, but Ron knew that it was more than that. It was a different type of pride, in that not only had he taken it, but the subject, the beautiful subject, was all his, and this was how he saw her. Now he was finally able to show her that.

Just like Hermione had always known that there was a side of him that could be soft, gentle and tender, Ron had known that there was a side of her that could be playful, happy, and passionate about something other than house-elves. Him. She could be passionate about him, and she had always been so proud of the way she could let herself go around him and just exist as a person in love and not as a student or an employee of the Ministry of Magic.

And now they'd lost that. For two years, Ron would never be that sweet, empathetic person that Hermione had seen in him. And for two years, Hermione wouldn't be able to let loose at all. No matter who she was with, she was always stressed about something. Except Ron. He made her forget. In some way, he felt that for the next two years, they were kind of screwed. He always liked himself best when he was around Hermione, and she liked herself best when she was around him. In one way, this break was exactly what they needed. In another, it could potentially be fatal.

What exactly was a break, anyways? Ron wasn't sure what it entailed, wasn't sure what he was supposed to do. Hermione had told him that she would be with him when she came back, given that he hadn't fallen in love again. Did that mean that he was supposed to start dating again? But then he had let her keep the engagement ring. That meant that they were still engaged, meaning that dating would be cheating, in spite of the fact that he wouldn't be seeing Hermione for two years. Besides, who would want to get into a relationship with someone that would dump them in two years no matter what? He would always want to be with Hermione more than anyone else. That was just the way it was.

There was a sudden knock at the door. Ron leaped up, hope and excitement blooming in his stomach. What if it was Hermione? It was Hermione! He knew it. It had to be Hermione. She had come back. But when he flung the door open, he was faced with disappointment. Never in his life had he been so annoyed to see Harry Potter.

"How'd you hear so fast?" Ron asked dully, his face morose.

"Hermione's staying with me and Gin until she leaves."

Somehow, hearing Harry say Ginny's nickname, hearing Harry bring up the fact that the two lived together, remembering that they were married... it only deepened Ron's wound. It made desolation wash over him all over again.

"When's she going?"

"A week," Harry said, walking in. Ron noticed beer in his hand, and felt grateful. He really wanted to be drunk at that moment. "Apparently, the French Ministry was extremely eager to take her."

"Of course. She's bloody brilliant," Ron said, almost defensively. Harry rolled his eyes. He plopped himself into a squishy armchair and let out a long sigh.

"I have a headache from all of Hermione's hysterical sobbing."

It seemed wrong to know this fact, like he had just barged into Hermione's personal files and found a love letter to him that he had never seen before. It almost seemed as though he was cheating at the game of love, the idea that he knew something about her that he had not been meant to know. He suddenly understood why two people dating was bad for the third party in the friendship. He was almost enraged at Harry for telling him this, rather than hearing it from Hermione herself. But instead of saying that, he plopped down onto the couch and grabbed a beer from Harry. They drank in silence for a while, as they were so good at doing now, having gotten used to the awkwardness of their relationships. Hermione was like Harry's sister, and Ginny was Ron's sister. Ron wondered if Harry felt like hitting him, but figured that he probably wouldn't, since this wasn't really his fault except for the fact that he was a jealous asshole. Finally, after about an hour of doing nothing but drinking and staring at the wall, Harry spoke.

"So, you have one week."

"What?"

"One week until she leaves."

"So?"

Harry looked at him pointedly.

"Are you going to go after her?"

Ron hadn't even considered this, but he felt absolutely vexed now that the option had been suddenly introduced to him. Are you going to go after her?

"No," he said, shaking his head. "I'm not."

**A/N: Hey, guys, welcome to **War of the Exes**! This is something I've been working on since February, when I finished writing **Because I Love You**. It's 25 chapters long (including the epilogue) and I have to say was extremely fun to write. I hope you'll review and tell me what you think for this chapter ****_and_****the next twenty-four. Thanks for reading! ~writergirl8**


	2. Chapter 2

The coffee shop smelled delicious as usual and Ron inhaled deeply as he entered the familiar place. Looking around, he noted again how it hadn't changed in the slightest. It was one of the things that Ron loved about the shop- he hated change, after all. Change only led to bad things, right? Change could never be good unless you weren't happy with where you were in your life. And Ron was perfectly happy with how this coffee shop looked. He wanted it to stay just the way it was. It had gotten him through both the best and worst years of his life, the tough times and the easy ones. Everything down to the huge coffee cups and comfortable couches had gotten him through the slow, painful process of grieving, and he thought that if he lost it, all of his progress might just fall out the window.

After shutting the door tightly behind him, Ron strode forward and to the counter. He stepped in line behind a woman with sleek brown hair and a little black dress that looked a tad too formal for the morning. He guessed that the red sweatshirt she had put over it was an attempt to conceal its style, but there was no disguising that the woman looked more out of place in this coffee shop than a giraffe would. However, if she was here, Ron knew she must have good taste in coffee shops. Brown's Coffee was a small family owned business. When you stepped inside it looked like you were in someone's extremely fascinating attic. The walls, lined up with cherry wood tables, were a warm burgundy. The coffee cups were absolutely enormous, each a differently painted vibrant color. In the center of the shop were a couple of couches, varying in size, and accompanied by some coffee tables that doubled as foot rests. .

Oh, yeah, and the food was good too. Grinning to himself, Ron returned his eyes to the woman in front of him again. He watched as she stepped up to place her order, and just as she did so, the waitress behind the counter waved to Ron and gestured him forward.

"You're a bit late this morning," she said, grinning as she handed Ron his coffee.

"My bloody alarm didn't go off," Ron explained, digging through his pockets for some gold. Once he found it, he handed it to the waitress and turned around, feeling a little better now that he had his day on track. Just as he turned, he slammed into the woman that had been getting her coffee at the other counter. He heard her exclamation of "Whoops!" mingle with his "Bloody hell!" as coffee spilled all over his robes.

"I'm sorry, it's my fault," Ron said, reaching over for a napkin and concentrating on nothing but the state of his work clothes. The woman said nothing, simply standing there, and Ron instantly became offended, wondering why anyone would be so rude. He opened his mouth to snap at her, but, upon seeing her, closed it quickly. She was staring at him with a shocked look on her face, and her coffee cup had fallen out of her hand and clattered to the floor. The remaining coffee there spilled from the cup and created a pool at their feet. The two simply stared at each other, until finally the woman found her voice.

"Ron," she said hesitantly. "Ah... hello."

"Hermione," Ron croaked in response. "What happened to your hair?"

Her next reply was so sarcastic that it let him on to how awkward she was feeling.

"Oh, it thinned out naturally over time."

Ron let out a laugh, then said,

"No, really."

Hermione allowed herself a small smile.

"I used Sleekeazy. I have a job interview."

Ron felt as though she had punched him.

"Er- is that why you came back to London?"

Hermione glanced up at him, searching his expression for something, probably hearing the unspoken statement in his sentence. Is that why you came back to London, or did you come back for me?

"Yes, it is," she said quietly. A lump formed in Ron's throat.

"Right, well, I don't want to keep you," he said. He turned around and started to walk out the door. Hermione was looking after him desperately, however, and he wasn't surprised when she called out his name a few seconds later.

"Ron?"

He turned around.

"Yeah?"

"Maybe... do you think... my interview isn't for hours... do you want to... catch up?"

Now, the fact was that Ron was already a little bit late for work and if he spent anymore time with his ex girlfriend he would probably be risking an extreme berating and possible firing from his boss. But Hermione was making that familiar pleading face at him, so, swallowing, Ron agreed and led her over to the table that he always sat at.

"You remember," Hermione said delightedly, and Ron mentally abused himself for picking this spot. He'd forgotten that before it had been his spot, it had been their spot, and before that it had been hers. Which made him look the perfect fool for not suspecting that Hermione would be there someday. But the truth was, Ron hadn't expected Hermione to ever show up again. Not in his life, not in his world, and certainly not in this little coffee shop that had been the place where he spent a whole year and a half grieving her. He felt that her showing up here and seeing him here was slightly ironic and extremely counteractive to the progress that he had been making. He could feel his composure and security in life (or what little he had, anyways) quickly unraveling simply at the sight of her face.

"'Course I do," he settled on saying, and Hermione gave him a tiny smile that made his heart melt into a tiny little puddle.

Traitor.

Hermione and Ron sat at the table and slowly sipped their coffee. Ron felt as though he should probably be saying something, but the fact was that he had no clue what to ask her about, aside from her relationship status. He watched her look around, her eyes fixed on a woman and her baby over in the corner, her mouth set into a thin line that told Ron she was trying to control some emotion deep inside. Finally, she took a long breath and turned back to him, fixing her amber eyes on his azure ones. Her unflinching gaze was making Ron nervous, but he promised himself inwardly that he would not let on to this.

"So how've you been?" Hermione asked shortly. Ron swallowed. What was he supposed to say? Great, Hermione. After you ripped my heart out, I was real good. Quick, quick recovery.

"Alright, I suppose."

He saw the thin line vanish and a faint smile wash over her face. And that was when it hit him, a thought that made him so horror struck and depressed he wanted to curl up in a little ball and die.

She was happy.

She was happy, and over him, and the only reason that she was able to stand sitting at this table with him was because she was so much happier than he was. She was moving on, making a better and beautiful life that would never, ever involve him. A life where her husband picked up his clothes off of the floor and her children were not Quidditch obsessed gingers. He'd standby and watch her live her years without him, watch her go through days where she thought she needed to straighten her hair, and he'd have no right to tell her that it was more beautiful in its natural state. She was always more beautiful in her natural state, especially in the morning with the sunlight streaming in through the window, making her seem like an angel surrounded by a halo. She had always looked so happy waking up next to him. He missed that look on her face. He supposed she wore it very often for the man who she woke up next to now.

The thought of her waking up next to someone else- or, indeed, sleeping with someone else- made his insides contract in what could only be described as pure, unadulterated jealousy. And it was somewhere between that moment and Hermione's inquiry as to what he was up to these days that he made his choice. It wasn't a conscious decision, and it definitely was not a good one. He barely thought about it beforehand, and it seemed as though the idea had entered his mind completely without his acknowledgment or consent. But the words- the lies- slipped off of his tongue so fast he had absolutely no time to think about it- or, indeed, consider the consequences. He didn't even have the time to ask himself whether or not it was a good time to do so, seeing as he had absolutely no proof that Hermione was with someone else at the moment, or even that she was happy at this stage in her life. He just said it.

"I'm engaged."

He should have foreseen her next question as soon as the words spilled out of his mouth, but it still took him by surprise.

"Who are you engaged to?"

For some strange reason, he was so surprised he didn't even notice the way her eyes widened slightly and her smile became quite fixed. He was too busy contemplating who would hurt Hermione the most, and the answer came to him in one glorious moment. The image of Hermione setting birds on him when they were in sixth year entered his mind, and then some words that she had spoken to him once joined the picture.

"Seeing you kissing her... wanting her... it tore me into pieces. I never, ever want to have to go through it again."

"Lavender," Ron said without preamble. "Lavender Brown." Then, feeling as though he ought to do the thing properly, he let out a loud chuckle and said, "Or Weasley, I suppose. Lavender Weasley, she'll be soon."

He was so disgusted with his actions he didn't even notice Hermione's spoon clatter to the ground, nor the fact that she spent at least a minute trying to retrieve it. He didn't notice her attempt to compose herself, so by the time she spoke again, she was perfectly alright and it seemed that she had never been upset at all. If there was one thing Ron knew, it was that old wounds left scars. Even if Hermione had been totally and completely over him, he had expect a slight reaction to his news that he was engaged to the girl that had combined efforts with him to break Hermione's heart. No matter how long ago it was. So when she let out a girlish, highly out of character giggle, Ron snapped his head up in shock and watched as she made her next announcement.

"That's so funny!" Hermione squealed, slapping her hands on the table.

"Why is that funny?" Ron frowned. He was confused and (it had to be said) stupendously annoyed that his plot seemed to have failed.

"Well, you're engaged to your first girlfriend," Hermione said, still jabbering in a voice that was obscenely unlike her own. "And I'm married to my first boyfriend!" There was a second of stifling panic in which Ron thought Wait- I was her first boyfriend... are we married? But this was only magnified by a hundredfold when the name slipped from Hermione's slips. "Viktor!"

His breathing seemed to get shallower as he looked at her face, all smiles, and her unrevealing eyes. Not a truth or a lie, and since there was nothing there, he had to assume that she was telling the truth.

"H-how?" Ron managed to choke out, and Hermione took another long sip of coffee before answering his question.

"Well," she said, "after I left your house that night, the second one, I went straight to Viktor's house... I couldn't bear to go back to France, you know. And then... well, I didn't mean for it to happen, Ronald. But we slowly fell back in love."

She let out a loose, happy sigh, and Ron managed to say something along the lines of,

"That's great!"

Of course, what he was really thinking was, Did you just call me Ronald?

"He's my everything," Hermione said simply.

"Does Ginny know?" Ron asked. "I'd have thought she would have warn- er – told me."

"Yes, she knows. I've kept in touch with her, and your mum."

Hermione was still in touch with his mum? This was news to Ron.

"So, how about you and... 'Lav Lav'?" Hermione inquired. "What's the deal there?"

Ron, whose anger had reached a point of vindictiveness, plowed ahead with the most obnoxious and hurtful story he could think of.

"Well, after you left that night, the second time, I ran straight into Lavender's arms."

"What happened to... her? The other one," Hermione whispered, her eyes betraying emotion for the first time since Ron had said Lavender's name. In spite of the cold front Ron had been putting up, he became completely undone at this question.

"Hermione," he said quietly, "she was nothing. You know she was nothing." Hermione looked away, back towards that mother and baby, refusing to believe this. Ron, his stomach dropping, continued on with his story. "Well, Lavender and I spent months verbally tearing you apart and making lists of every single one of your flaws, and we grew closer over that time."

"Great base for a marriage," Hermione, whose eyes were now glistening with tears, snapped.

"Shut up," Ron growled. He wanted to tell her that he'd had a great base for a marriage before, but then everything had gotten mucked up. Unfortunately, he lacked the courage to do this, so he contented himself with a smoldering glare.

Hermione stood up very abruptly, brushing a tear impatiently from the corner of her eye.

"I have to go."

"I think you should."

Without exchanging any parting words, Hermione walking out of the coffee shop. Ron thought he heard a sob before the door slammed. As soon as he was sure she was gone he let out a loud groan and smacked his head onto the table. Well.

That probably could have gone better.

***

Once she was out of the coffee shop, Hermione gulped in a deep breath of air.

Then she promptly burst into tears. While her first instinct was to go to a bar and drink herself silly, she had a job interview to get to later that day, and it would not do for her to show up drunk. Quickly, she decided on the next best thing. She was going to see Ginny. Mentally picking herself up off of the ground, Hermione made her way over to The Leaky Cauldron and asked Tom if she could use his fireplace. He agreed to this, and Hermione flashed him a grateful smile, as this was not something he usually did. Maybe it was because she was Hermione Granger, or maybe it was because of how awful she looked- either way, she didn't care. She threw the powder into the flames, yelled out Ginny's address and, five seconds later, teetered unsteadily out of the fireplace in Ginny's living room.

"GINNY!" Hermione called out, her voice revealing how emotional she was feeling even though she had tried to keep it in check. "GINNY!"

Harry's untidy head appeared in the room two seconds later, looking at her curiously. Upon seeing the mascara streaming down her cheeks, he closed his eyes briefly and said,

"You saw Ron, didn't you?"

"Yes," Hermione choked out, "and why didn't you tell me?"

Now Harry was confused.

"Tell me what?"

"That he's engaged!"

Harry snorted.

"Ron, engaged? Seriously, Hermione, the arse hasn't left the house except to go to work in two years."

"Stop protecting me!" Hermione demanded shrilly. "Now where's Ginny?"

"The Burrow," Harry said promptly.

"Thanks," Hermione said quickly. "Why aren't you at work? Oh, and if you see Ron and he asks you about Viktor Krum, make sure that you say that I'm married to him."

"I have the day off and... WHAT?" Harry shouted, now seriously losing his grasp on what was going on. But without even pausing for an adequate explanation or even an goodbye, Hermione spun around and made her way back to the fireplace. By the time she spun out, the tears had started again, and they were coming down freely when she came out of the fireplace. Staring at her with looks of surprise upon their faces were Ginny, Mrs. Weasley and Luna, although the latter may not have been surprised at all- her expression looked quite normal for her.

"Bloody hell," Ginny said after taking in the state of her. "Hermione?"

"What did my son do to you now, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked kindly, and Luna giggled.

"He's getting married!" Hermione wailed, and Mrs. Weasley and Ginny exchanged shocked glances.

"He's... what?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

"No way," Ginny said. "No way."

"To who?" Luna inquired, and Hermione started crying even louder.

"Lavender Brown, of all people! I mean, honestly." Ginny's mouth fell open, but Hermione wasn't done yet. "And then, because he'd hurt me so much, I decided that I wanted to hurt him too. So I told him that I was married to Viktor Krum."

"But you haven't talked to Viktor Krum since you were nineteen!" Ginny cried.

"That's not true," said Hermione miserably. "I was still acquaintances with him... we wrote each other every once in a while. Ron saw a letter one day and he flew off the handle."

"Well, were you hiding it from him?" Ginny asked pointedly.

"No... but you know how he gets... and what does it matter? This happened three years ago! It wasn't even what we broke up over. It just sort of catapulted that."

"Would you like a cup of tea, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked, her motherly instincts taking over. Hermione nodded weakly and plopped into a chair, burying her head in her knees.

"I can't believe how stupid I am," came her muffled voice a few seconds later.

"Me neither," said Ginny in a disgusted tone of voice. "But he's stupid as well. Never forget that."

Mrs. Weasley came back with Hermione's tea, and she took it gratefully, sipping as she retold the pitiful tale to the trio of women that had been there to help her for so long. Through the frequent winces, Hermione kept on, trying not to break out into tears again as she voiced Ron's harsh words. When she finished, Mrs. Weasley started to say something, but Ginny threw her a warning look and turned to Hermione.

"Yes, Ron's engaged to Lavender," Ginny stated plainly, "and you're still in love with him. What are you going to do about it?"

Mrs. Weasley gaped soundlessly at her daughter, but Ginny refused to look in her direction, never taking her eyes off of Hermione.

"I'm going to emotionally kill him," Hermione said determinedly, and then she got up and grabbed her purse.

"Where are you going?" Mrs. Weasley asked, standing up with her.

"To talk to Viktor," Hermione said, her eyes cold and her mouth set. "I'm going to convince him to help me."

"Good luck, Hermione," Luna said sincerely. "and if that doesn't work, you can also get a werewolf to impersonate him."

Hermione stopped in her tracks.

"What?"

"Oh, didn't you know? Werewolves are also shape shifters!"

Ginny groaned.

"Luna, have you been reading bad muggle novels again?"

Luna looked guilty.

"Maybe."

Shaking her head, Ginny stood up and handed Hermione a hair brush.

"You're going to need this. And you'll also want to fix your make up. It's running all down your face."

"Thanks," Hermione said weakly. And then, to her surprise, Mrs. Weasley reached over and enclosed her in a warm, motherly hug that nearly made Hermione start crying all over again. She had always wanted Mrs. Weasley to be her mother-in-law, and for a while it had seemed that it was going in that direction. She'd had the ring and everything. And she'd even come back for it. But in one night she'd lost it all. The mother-in-law, the ring... the man. Why did life have to be so complicated? Hermione Granger had always thought that she would get older, get married, have kids, and that would be it. In that order, one after another. She hadn't expected herself to get her heartbroken so many times by the same man. If only the world was guaranteed to give everyone the ending that he or she wanted, like a fairytale.

But then, she supposed, the people who wrote the story of life wouldn't be nearly as entertained.

***

"Well, mate, you've done it again," Harry said, exhaling and leaning back in his chair. "You really have."

"Thanks," Ron said sourly. "Should I recite my speech now or save it for later?"

"Later," Harry said. "Then you can use it again for the arsehole of the year award."

"Oh, brilliant," Ron said sarcastically.

Harry seemed to regret what he said.

"Sorry mate," he sighed. "I just can't believe you initiated this whole thing."

"It's a good thing I did! If I hadn't lied about being engaged to Lavender, I would have been apparently single when Hermione told me she was married. Now tell me what to do."

Harry took a sip of his coffee as he considered. After a while of contemplation, he shrugged.

"I dunno. I've never been so stupid with Ginny. And since we're married, I think it's safe to say that she trusts me to never be so idiotic with her."

"Do I tell the truth?" Ron asked desperately. "Or do I just continue to go on with the lie?"

"No idea, mate," Harry shrugged.

Ron stood up and began pacing.

"Why don't we weigh the pros and cons?" he suggested, and Harry nodded at him.

"Alright. Pros for keeping up the charade."

"Hermione will be jealous," Ron said, his eyes glinting. "I love it when she's jealous."

"I really don't know why I'm even friends with you."

"Good to know. Oh, and Hermione will be under the misconception that I am happy."

"True."

"I'll get to wave it in Hermione's face, which will help me test the waters and see whether or not she still loves me."

"After what you did? Not bloody likely," Harry snorted.

"You mean with the whole lying thing?" Ron asked.

"No," Harry said. "Try going back about two years... Perdita..."

Ron paled.

"I try not to think about that night."

"So do we all."

Ron swallowed, but didn't say anything.

"Did you ever find out why she came back that night?" Harry asked, and Ron shook his head, turning around to look at his friend with fury on his face.

"Don't talk about it, alright?"

"Fine, fine," Harry said. "What are some cons of keeping up the massive lie, then?"

"I'll have to be around Lavender Brown a lot."

"Fair point, well made."

"If it all blows up in my face, that could be really bad."

"Could?"

"Would. Will be."

"Right. Oh, and if you pull this trick, Hermione won't be able to come to you and tell you that she isn't over you and that she wants to be with you."

"What does it matter? She's married to Viktor Krum. God, I hate that talentless little prune."

"Prune?" Harry said, momentarily distracted from the mention of Krum.

"I'm trying to lay off of the swearing."

"Since when?"

"Since Hermione got back."

"I have a headache," Harry moaned. He was doing everything he could not to tell Ron that Hermione was lying about Viktor Krum, but that wouldn't be fair to Hermione. "What are you doing this for, anyways? According to Hermione, she's taken."

"I'm not going to try to get her back," Ron said slowly. "Not unless she tells me that she isn't happy with Krum. But I do want revenge... and I want to know if she still loves me."

"Would that really bring you the closure you need to move on?"

"Harry, I've wanted her since I was fourteen. I'm twenty five now and cannot for the life of me see how I will ever stop wanting her. I just need to know if I was that replaceable to her."

Harry felt completely handicapped. He was unable to deal with the mushiness, the depression, and the plotting. All he really wanted to do was comfort Ron, but he couldn't tell him Hermione's lie. Just as he was trying to figure out some way to get Ron out of his house (which was plan B), Ginny's head appeared in the fireplace.

"Harry, I need you to get over to the Burrow right now."

Harry stood up and went to the fireplace. Ron made to follow him, but Ginny shook her head.

"Not you, dolt," she said in a bossy, sisterly tone. "Come on, Harry! It's an emergency."

Shooting Ron an apologetic glance (while inwardly dancing the conga), Harry stepped into the fireplace and arrived a few minutes later at the Burrow.

"What's up?" he asked.

"You've heard by now, right?" Mrs. Weasley questioned him, cutting to the chase.

"Yeah. What are we going to do?"

"Well, why don't you ask your wife? Because Hermione was just here, and we could have told her, but Ginevra insisted on keeping it quiet."

"Mum, how many times have I asked you not to call me Ginevra?" Ginny groaned.

"Okay, not the issue here," Harry cut in.

Ginny sighed.

"Don't you people get it? This is war. War of the exes. This is all about games and trickery, and hits and misses, and will they/won't theys. If we stop this, if we stop them, it'll just get worse. They need to play a few ex games before they can finally get together and be together. It'll hurt right now, but in the long run it will make their relationship so much better. And in the middle of all the ex games and anger and hatred, Ron and Hermione will realize that they're meant to be."

"Um... that all sounds good in theory, Gin, but I think it's a bit more complicated in real life," Harry said tentatively.

"Nonsense," Ginny said briskly, and, upon looking around the table and seeing the disbelief on the faces of her family members, she deflated. "Fine. Do you have a better idea?"

"Nope," said Luna.

"Not really," admitted Mrs. Weasley,

"Not a one," announced Harry.

Ginny looked satisfied.

"Good. Place your bets. It's game on."


	3. Chapter 3

_Everything about this was familiar. The building. The steps. The hallway. She could have walked it in her sleep, finding her way directly and not walking into any walls. Her feet knew it so well, she barely needed to concentrate on the path she was taking. So, instead, she pictured the scene that was about to happen. It was very late at night, but she knew that Ron wouldn't care. Not when he heard what she had to say. He'd be so overjoyed he wouldn't even be upset about the time of night._

__First, she would knock on his door, loudly and energetically and for so long that she would force him to drag his arse out of bed and open up the door for her. His face would light up as soon as he saw her, but it would quickly transfer into something uncertain and confused. He'd ask her why she was there, and, at first, she wouldn't answer. Yes, it had only been a week, but she had missed him very much. So first, before she answered any of his questions (and knowing Ron, there would be a lot of them) she would drink in his appearance, how solid he was in front of her, instead of the way he was in her dreams at night, so near and yet not close enough to grasp.__

__He would be pale, Hermione thought. He was always pale to begin with, but Ginny had told her that Ron hadn't left their flat since she'd left, leading Hermione to believe that he would be even paler than usual, almost gray. His hair would be adorably disheveled, his eyes squinty and a bit red, and he'd probably be in the same clothes that he had been wearing the night she left. This thought cheered her up immensely. Hopefully, he would have been just as upset as she was. The reunion would be that much sweeter.__

__Oh, but when she told him... god, Hermione couldn't wait to see the look on his face. He would be so happy! They'd both always wanted this, and it was a game changer if Hermione had ever seen one. With that thought in mind, Hermione bounded up to the door and knocked energetically. It opened much more quickly than she'd expected, but at the sight of Ron looking disheveled and drowsy, Hermione's heart burst into even more adoration for her fiancée. Her fiancée who was currently gazing at her with a looking of something other than surprise on his face. To Hermione, it seemed more like guilt, but she supposed that she felt a bit guilty seeing him as well. As she took in his expression and attire, Hermione completely forgot all of the speech that she had planned and just said,__

__"Hey."__

__Ron broke out into a weak smile, but he still looked troubled as he looked down at her.__

__"What are you doing here?"__

__Hermione drew in a deep breath.__

__"Ron, I made a mistake."__

__"No, you didn't, Hermione. Two years might be a bit drastic, but we need this break. It'll do us good. We've never not been a couple, ever since we were eighteen, and-"__

__"No, it was a mistake, Ron. I realized that about ten minutes after I left, but I was too chicken to come back."__

__Ron's words were lost in his throat as he leaned heavily against the door, leaving it only open enough for his body to fit through.__

__"What made you, then? Come back, I mean."__

__"I have some-"__

__"Ron?"__

__Hermione stopped talking and gave Ron a curious, raised eyebrow look. His face was contorted into an expression that greatly resembled a rabbit caught in the headlights. Without taking her eyes off of Ron's, Hermione reached out and pushed the door open. Standing there wearing a Chudley Cannon's t-shirt of Ron's was a leggy brunette who, if she looked closely, slightly resembled Hermione herself.__

__"Er... Perdita? Would you mind going back into my room?"__

__"Of course," Perdita said, flashing Hermione a small smile as she took in the other woman. Suddenly, Perdita's smile dropped. "Oh my god," she whispered. "You're his ex girlfriend, and I..." she glanced to the left, into the mirror that was hanging on the wall, absorbing her own appearance of long dark hair, light brown eyes, and fair skin. Then she looked back towards Hermione. "I...am an idiot."__

__"What do you mean?" Hermione and Ron asked simultaneously, but Perdita, blushing fiercely, dove back into Ron's room, then emerged several seconds later brandishing a dress and a pair of high heels.__

__"Um, Perdita?" Ron said, but she merely patted him on the shoulder.__

__"Please don't floo me."__

__Ron's mouth opened and he started to say something, but Perdita had already turned to Hermione, snorting as she took in the appearance of the woman.__

__"And I'm so, so sorry. I didn't mean to... well, he's obviously not... I hope you two... yeah."__

__Hermione didn't seem to know what to make of that, so she remained silent as Perdita walked down the hallway. They both watched her go, however- Ron only to avoid Hermione's eyes and Hermione in a valiant attempt to collect herself and calm her raging temper. When Perdita had gone, Hermione pushed Ron into his flat and slammed the door behind him with a flick of her wand. It never failed to turn Ron on when he saw Hermione get angry, which he supposed was a little sick in some ways, but to him she was always dead sexy when she got that way. In an effort not to follow the beaten path with their usual arguments, which he was sure she would greatly appreciate, Ron adverted his eyes from Hermione and waited apprehensively for her to start yelling at him.__

__"What was that?" she demanded, her voice shaking.__

__"We were on a break!" Ron said defensively, seemingly fixated with a spot on his carpeting.__

__"A break, Ronald. We weren't broken up."__

__Don't call me Ronald! Can't you know how fired up I get when you do that? Merlin, woman! Notice how no one except you calls me that, and then it's only when we're fighting. Think, dammit!__

__"Break is just a different way of saying broken," Ron said defensively.__

__"No, Ron. Because I gave you that option, and when you told me to keep this engagement ring-" she thrust her hand into his face, forcing him to see the glittering diamond that he had spent painfully long hours picking out and earning money for, "-you lost the privilege to see other people."__

__Oh crap. She was right. They were still engaged.. how had he completely forgotten about that part? It was the heat of the moment, he supposed. He was lonely, vulnerable, and here was a woman who actually had the stones to ask him out. How was he supposed to say no, when he was so down on himself his confidence was at an all-time low? Just the fact that someone- anyone- wanted him made his depression lift a little, and then there was the fact that she looked exactly like Hermione. That made the deal even sweeter for Ron, and he hadn't even cared that he was using the poor girl ____because when he got lost in her eyes it nearly felt like he was getting lost in Hermione's.__

__"I'm sorry," Ron said hoarsely. "I'm so, so sorry."__

__"Oh, that changes everything!" Hermione said sarcastically. "Take me now, Ron!" Angry tears were streaming down her cheeks, tears of indescribable infuriation and unbearable pain.__

__"Please, Hermione, I-"__

__"NO!" Hermione yelled. "That's it! I love you so much, Ron, but you cheated on me! You couldn't have kept to yourself for two years? Two bloody years of break time and we would have been free to have a future and everything would have been fine!"__

__"It was just once!" Ron argued. Hermione bristled at this rebuttal. Apparently it only fueled her anger.__

__"We were supposed to only sleep with each other for the rest of our lives! Remember? That was the plan!"__

__"Plans change," Ron whispered, his eyes flashing back down to the carpet. His mind was leaping backwards to the first time they made love, and Hermione's was, too. She shook her head, trying to clear it.__

__"GOD!" she burst out. "I keep picturing you and her and... no, I can't do this. We're over. I can't take it."__

__She walked over to the door, knowing that with each step she was furthering herself from Ron. Ron, the boy who'd burped up slugs for her. Ron, the boy who she'd kissed during the final battle. Ron, the man she told her secrets to, and pined after, and had been perfectly happy with the idea of spending forever with. They were completely different, but, to be perfectly honest, he felt like her soul mate. Try as she might, Hermione would never be able to fully get over him. And every day she would have inevitable reminders of him. Every day for the rest of her life. Suppressing a choked hiccuping sound that she often made when she cried, Hermione twisted the ring off of her finger and threw it maliciously at Ron's head. He caught it, perhaps because of marvelous Quidditch skills, or perhaps because of intense auror training. Either way, it ended up in his hands, and he looked at it as though he didn't quite understand how it had gotten there. Once he had gotten his fill of it he glanced up at Hermione, staring at her as though he wasn't really seeing her, a sort of blind horror on his face.__

__This was hard. This was so much harder then the last time, because as she walked to the door it hit her that this wasn't a break, but a break up. There wasn't a do-over. A future. She caught one last look of the face she loved before leaving, but suddenly the image of Perdita snogging him jumped into her mind and she slammed the door shut quickly. As she did so, something occurred to Hermione. She hadn't told him her good news. But what did it matter, really? He didn't deserve to hear it, anyways.__

"Ms. Granger? Mr. Krum will see you now."

Hermione was startled out of her memory by Viktor Krum's secretary, who had been peering curiously at her for the fifteen minutes Hermione had been waiting. Hermione smiled nervously at the young woman, then stood up and walked into the large room that was, in all honesty, Viktor Krum's man cave.

"Herm-own-ninny!" he said jubilantly, standing up to hug her as soon as she walked in through the door. "It has been too long."

"I agree," Hermione said, politely accepting his hug. "Which is why I feel awful about coming here and asking you a favor."

"Nonsense," Viktor pronounced, settling down into a big chair behind his desk. "You saved the entire vizarding vorld!"

"Not really," Hermione started, but he rolled his eyes.

"I don't have time for this. Vat is is that you vant?"

"Well... it's Ron," Hermione said, twisting her scarf nervously between her fingers. "Remember how sixth year he dated this girl named Lavender Brown?" Viktor nodded, and Hermione went on. "I met him in a coffee shop a few days ago, and we sat down, you know, for a platonic chat-"

"Excuse me, Herm-own-ninny. But I don't think that anything betveen you and Mr. Veasley could be purely platonic."

Hermione began to argue, but deflated. "Fine, you're right. But it turns out he's engaged! To Lavender! And, well, I was so shocked and hurt I didn't even think. I told him... I told him I was married to you."

Viktor stared at her, then burst into booming laughter that actually startled Hermione into dropping her purse. It landed on the floor with a loud thump, and she let it stay there, watching the laughter on Krum's face.

"Vy me?" he asked, still chuckling but slightly recovered.

"You were the one who made him jealous in school," Hermione explained.

"Ah," Viktor said. Then he paused. "Vell... I suppose it would be alright."

"Really?" Hermione said, surprised. "Oh, thank you so much!"

Viktor shrugged, his black eyes twinkling.

"I actually think this will be fun."

"Right!" Hermione said, beaming at him. "Well, here. I made this binder of things that are about our life, things that are commonly asked to real married couples."

She pulled a large blue binder out of her purse and handed it to Viktor. The shock had completely dissipated from his expression and was now replaced by a slightly condescendingly amused look, as if Hermione was a young child he was watching at play. He took the binder and leafed through a few pages.

"Our vedding must have been gorgeous," he joked, his eyes flitting back and forth through the rich detail in front of him.

"Mmm," Hermione agreed. "That was really fun. When I was with Ron, I always imagined what our wedding would be like- especially once he had proposed."

Viktor sighed and closed the binder. He looked at Hermione seriously from across his desk.

"Herm-own-ninny, vile I love the idea of you and Mr. Veasley, I can't help but vonder if I am doing the right thing here."

"Of course not," Hermione said breezily. "We're telling Ron that we're married when we aren't. How could that possibly be righteous?"

"No, it's not that," Viktor admitted, and Hermione looked nonplussed. "It's just that... vy are you trying to make Veasley jealous? He's engaged, and, in any case, doing this might break that up. But, besides that, I think this may give you false hope that Ron vill vant you two to get back together should his other relationship fall through. Then you'll be the rebound girl. And, aside from that, he cheated on you! So vat if he does that again? I'd never be able to forgive myself. You are a truly lovely voman, and you know vat they say about cheaters. You don't deserve to be hurt, and if he does hurt you I vill end up breaking his face anyways."

Hermione snorted at this idea, but shook her head.

"That won't be a problem. I have absolutely no intention of rekindling any romance with Ron that there once was."

"Then vy are you doing this?" Viktor asked pointedly.

"Revenge!" Hermione cried, and to Viktor's surprise a determined and excited gleam showed up in her eye. "I want to hurt him the way he hurt me by sleeping with his coworker and then getting engaged to a totally different woman! Do you understand- can you even begin to understand how much that hurt?"

"Aha!" Viktor said, slamming his fist triumphantly onto the table. "So you do still have feelings for him!"

Hermione broke off, looking befuddled.

"N... no I don't," she said weakly.

"Yes, you do."

"No, I don't!"

"Do."

"Don't!"

"Do."

"Don't!"

"Do!"

"DON'T!"

"DO!"

"Oh my god... do!"

"Don... vait, vat?"

"I do!" Hermione wailed, hiding her head in her hands. "Two years fixed nothing, oh what am I thinking? Exes don't normally act like this if they're totally and completely over someone."

She broke off, staring into space, her lips moving as she attempted to figure out what was going on.

"Herm-own-ninny?"

"He cheated," Hermione whispered in reply. "Granted, the whole break thing was a tad confusing, and has been so for generations of relationships, but even so... and while I was sort of expecting him to still want to be with me when I got back, I got over that as soon as he said that he was engaged to Lavender Brown... and I was going to say no when he asked, or so I thought..."

She stood up, looking pitifully flustered.

"I have to go. I'll contact you with further instructions on our arrangement. Please keep it a secret. Oh, and here's your wedding band."

As she handed it to him, he noticed a wedding ring on her finger, too, though not an engagement ring.

"Vy don't you have a rock?" he inquired, and at his question Hermione blushed.

"I just don't want one of those until the real thing. Wedding bands are one thing, but we don't need engagement rings. Besides, I think that the engagement ring is special. All wedding bands are reasonably generic, but engagement rings say so much about the couple and the woman."

"Are you suggesting that ve don't have a special relationship?" Viktor teased, and Hermione laughed and rolled her eyes.

"Well, it's definitely not traditional, that's for sure. Though it could be construed as slightly cliché. Oh, good Merlin, when did my life become a romantic comedy?"

"Around your fourth year," Viktor smirked, and Hermione giggled.

"True."

"Are you sure about this?" Viktor asked as she reached for the door handle.

"Yes," Hermione said bracingly. "positive."

"Alright, then," he said, slipping his wedding ring onto his finger. "Let's play."

***

"What's in it for me?"

Ron groaned and hit his head on the wall that was behind him, supporting the couch he was seated on.

"I don't know. Free dinners? What do you want to be in it for you?"

Lavender contemplated this for a few seconds before saying,

"I want an engagement ring- any one I want. I want to be able to make up our whole story, and you have to stick with whatever I say, no matter how embarrassing. I want you to say on at least three public occasions that I am the best sex you've ever had. And, finally, I want a personal dedication in your wedding book when this all blows over and you and Hermione head to the alter."

"I'm not marrying Hermione."

"Sure you aren't."

"No, really! She won't marry me!"

"Yes, and I'm part bunny."

"Lavender, she won't."

"Oh, but she will."

"She WON'T!"

"Stop arguing, Ronald Weasley! Do you want me to back out of it before we've begun?"

"No."

"So tell me that you'll agree to my conditions and do your best to win back Hermione."

"I told you, I'm not breaking up her marriage if she's happy," Ron told Lavender pointedly.

"Fine, I'll rephrase that," Lavender allowed. "If she somehow communicates to you that she is unhappy in her marriage, you will do your best to win her back."

Ron hesitated before saying, "Fine."

"There's a good fiancée," Lavender said smugly, patting his head in a demeaning manner. "Now let's go get this bridezilla a ring, hmmm, honey?"


	4. Chapter 4

As always when The Burrow was packed full of people, loud shouts of laughter, surprise, and glee filled the whole place, nearly causing it to shake with the vibrations made by it's inhabitants. The Weasleys were family. They were a team, always supervised by the ever watchful Mrs. Weasley. Strong as their leader may seem, though, everyone in the family had run into her crying at least twice, even almost ten years after the war. Hermione herself had come in on her sobbing several times, and it was always disarming to see the strongest person you knew in a state of major dishevelment. Seeing Mrs. Weasley cry was like being without your wand in the middle of a battle. You were at a complete loss for what to do, and you felt weak and vulnerable, even though you weren't the one crying. Tonight, however, there was no weeping. Mrs. Weasley was in the kitchen surrounded by her daughter-in-laws and Ginny, barking out orders with a slightly melancholy look reflecting in her eyes. Upon seeing this, Hermione strode up to her, placed a kiss on her cheek, and thanked her once more for welcoming Hermione into her home. Mrs. Weasley waved her hand like it was nothing, but Hermione knew that this wasn't true. Ron, the only unmarried one of the bunch aside from Charlie, had asked his mum not to invite Hermione back into their home for Sunday night dinner. Mrs. Weasley, as Hermione heard from Ginny, wouldn't hear of it.

"Hermione is still our family, even if you're not allowed to shag her anymore, and that is your own damn fault, Ronald Weasley," she had admonished fiercely. "Don't be a baby," she'd added, giving even more insult to the injury.

Even though Hermione had obviously earned the acceptance of the Queen Bee, she was terribly nervous about spending time with the rest of the family. The Weasleys were a unit, a combined force of love that blocked out anyone who threatened to be a danger to any one of them. When Hermione had been with Ron, she'd always felt like she was inside of that wall. At that time, it had seemed very possible that one day they might all share a last name. But now she was just the ex girlfriend, and Lavender was the fiancée, and the only real connection Hermione had to the Weasleys was something that had happened in the past.

It very soon proved, though, that Hermione's fretting had been for naught. Every single Weasley woman welcomed her in to the fold like the old friend that she was. They all cooed over her wedding ring, inquired after the whereabouts of her engagement ring, and squealed over the fact that she was married to one of the most famous seekers of all time. When they were finished making her flush with simultaneous embarrassment and delight, they laughed over each other's anecdotes about their husbands, jobs, and children. As a matter of fact, Percy's wife, Audrey, seemed more out of place than Hermione did. She was a work-o-holic like Hermione, but seeing as her husband was one too, Audrey had no one to tell her when to stop. It took a bit of encouraging and coaxing on Hermione's part, but soon the women of the family knew some extremely embarrassing things about Percy that had Fleur and Angelina keeling over with their hysterical laughter. Audrey, very pink in the face, shot Hermione a grateful look, and Hermione wondered if she had ever before clicked with her sisters-in-law like that.

"Ron was the exact opposite," Hermione admitted after Audrey released a new story on the way Percy folded everything the second it was off of his body, no matter what. "He would throw things onto the floor whether they were mine or his, and he wouldn't pick them up for days after. Honestly, I could beg and plead him to get them, but in the end it was always me, and he seemed to deeply enjoy this system until I refused to cuddle with him that night."

There was a collective snort from the crowd, and then a sudden clearing of the throat. Everyone looked around to see Ron standing there, maroon at the ears and clutching a bottle of butter beer ridiculously tightly.

"Enjoying yourselves, are you?" he asked in a hard voice. The women all had the decency to look ashamed.

"Sorry," they muttered.

"We weren't laughing at you," Angelina added guiltily. "More at the situation, if anything."

Ron nodded stiffly, then turned to Hermione.

"Please don't tell any more stories about me."

She nodded numbly, most of her concentration on the butterflies in her stomach at the sight of him.

"Of course. I'll talk about Viktor instead," she said, remembering herself. Ron's ears became maroon again.

"For the record, Lavender doesn't care about my clothes, and she always cuddles with me when I want."

"Yes, well, Lavender's easy," Ginny said unblushingly. "Plus, I've seen your house, it's a pigsty."

Ron turned away and walked out of the room. As Hermione stared at his retreating back, there was an exchange of smug looks between the wives and Ginny. By the time she looked around again, however, their expressions were back to normal. The rest of the time, instead of listening to the conversation, Hermione kept her eyes on the rain pouring outside of the window, feeling her heart break a little bit more every time she heard Ron laugh.

Later, Hermione and Ginny were in the kitchen, gathering the last of the plates together. The family was eating in the dining room, a newly added room that was far bigger than the kitchen, easily large enough to accommodate all of the spouses and grandchildren that had so recently been added onto to brood. That said, the two women were alone, so that was when Hermione chose to voice the thing that she had been pondering the whole evening.

"Why's everyone being so wonderful? I mean, even the boys. I expected them to not want me here because I'm not going to be family anymore. I expected them be rude because I supposedly broke Ron's heart."

"The thing is," Ginny said, pulling more plates from the cabinet at an almost inhuman rate, "We know that Ron broke your heart, too, Hermione. And what you did is so much less than what he did. Weasley's don't take kindly to cheating."

Hermione looked taken aback.

"Who told them my side?"

"I did," Ginny said airily, and when Hermione looked perplexed she added, "why are you surprised?"

"I'm not sure," Hermione said slowly.

"It wasn't you who cheated."

"But I broke it off in the first place!"

"Only because he was a jealous prat. Both of you needed air, time to grow up."

"In giving us that time I made both of us miserable, and unknowingly made the hugest mistake of my life!"

"But he suggested you keep the ring. The ring is where he made his big mistake."

Something in Ginny's face suddenly changed.

"What?" Hermione asked urgently.

"You unknowingly made the biggest mistake of your life? What are you talking about?" Hermione blushed, and Ginny looked at her closely. "Is there something you're not telling me, Hermione?"

"No, of course not!" Hermione said quickly. She glanced around the kitchen, and her voice dropped to a whisper. "I hate the fact that breaking up with Ron is the worst mistake I ever made, and I didn't want anyone to know that. I mean, if I hadn't broken up with him he wouldn't be engaged to Lavender and I wouldn't be in a fake marriage with Viktor Krum."

She looked so desperately sorry that Ginny nearly considered giving the whole thing up in that moment. But her own warnings flashed through her mind, warnings about the ex games and everything that interference could do to them. It was too late to cancel them now. The games had already started.

"C'mon," she said instead. "We'd better take these into the dining room before mum flips her lid."

The two women headed into the dining room and set down the last of the plates in front of the already seated occupants. The room was buzzing with anticipation. While Ginny and Hermione had been in the kitchen, everyone in there had come up with a plan, one that they considered to be of epic enough proportions to get Hermione and Ron back together. Mrs. Weasley had warned the tittering females that it wasn't, but they had all insisted that it was, and by the time Ron had come back from the loo and Ginny and Hermione had come in with the plates, everything was set. Victoire and Dom were seated between Bill and Fleur. Teddy, James, Al, Harry, and Ginny were right across from them, and Percy, much to Harry's chagrin, was seated next to him, with Audrey and Molly on either side of him. Next to them were Mr and Mrs. Weasley, lording over the table and looking exquisitely happy. On the other side of Ginny sat Charlie, and across from him were George, Angelina and Roxanne. That left two seats at the foot of the table, right next to each other and at a close distance.

Hermione noticed this straight off, and her eyes narrowed as she look around the table. Unfortunately, no eyes were on her, which gave her the distinct impression that this may not, in fact, have been done on purpose. If it had, wouldn't they all be staring at her expectantly? Swallowing with great difficulty, she took her seat next to Ron, who froze. Hermione glanced at him, cleared her throat, then said,

"Is this where Lavender usually sits?" Wordlessly, Ron nodded. "Oh, sorry. It was the only seat left. So... where is she tonight?"

"Out with Parvati," Ron mumbled, staring at the table. "Where's Vicky?" he added scathingly.

Hermione sighed.

"Must you call my husband that, Ron?"

Her words reminded him of the startling fact that she was married to Viktor Krum and he felt the already strong urge to vomit increase by a hundredfold.

"Sorry," he mumbled, his former pep and vigor vanishing on the spot. As he stared at the table, his eyes caught sight of her wedding ring, resting delicately on her finger. It was gold, and Ron frowned at this. Hermione had once told him that she much preferred silver rings to gold, and that she didn't like much of any gold jewelry. The fact that she now wore a golden wedding ring now made him wonder if she had fully put her heart into this marriage, or if Viktor wasn't treating her right and forcing her to get the kind of jewelry she didn't want. Before he knew it, his vision was blurred by tears of both anger and sadness, and he fought to keep them in his eyes as his mother gently placed a plate in front of him. She patted him reassuringly on the shoulder as she left, and a little bit of hope burst into Ron's heart. His mum was always so tentative with him when it came to Hermione, but the fact that she was not blind to how much he was hurting gave him more strength than he would ever want to admit.

Picking up his knife, he began to cut his steak. It was unusually rough for his mum, and he looked up at her with surprise on his face. She was eying him with a mischievous smile on her face, and when he met her eyes she called down the table,

"Everything alright, Ronnie?"

Flushing at the nickname and desperate to get the attention off of him, Ron simply nodded and bent his head back down to the steak. Surreptitiously, he hoped, he looked around the table, trying to see if anyone else's steak was as tough as his. It didn't seem as though anyone was having the same problem. As a matter of fact, they were all chatting amicably, apparently ignorant to anything that was going on down at Ron's end of the table.

Suddenly, an elbow dug into his side, and Ron let out a yelp of pain, turning to glare in the direction of his right, forgetting who was there. There Hermione sat, however, blushing a brilliant red and adverting her eyes from his stare.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "it's just a little tough, and I'm having a difficult time cutting it."

Ron nodded in lieu of speaking his forgiveness and turned back to his meat. A few seconds later, however,

"Oomph!"

There was no doubt as to who he had accidentally elbowed- Ron knew the little squeak Hermione had just emitted rather well.

"Sorry," he said gruffly.

"It's alright."

And so it went, the whole night, Hermione and Ron repeatedly letting out little noises of pain and then being forced to apologize to one another. It was more interaction than they'd had in a colossally long time, and Mrs. Weasley was quite proud of herself for coming up with this plan without the prodding of any of her daughters-in-law. She'd conceived and executed the plan all by herself, and while she knew it wasn't going to get Ron and Hermione back together, she was still glad to make her contribution to the cause. The sooner this war was over, the better. Mrs. Weasley knew that it would be fun at first, but after a while everyone was going to get sick and tired of the ex games, including Ron, Hermione, Lavender and Viktor, the foremost players. She felt like she was in a multi sided war, Ron versus Hermione, Hermione versus Ron, Krum versus Ron and Lavender, Lavender versus Hermione and Krum, and the Weasleys, Krum, and Lavender versus Ron and Hermione. It was confusing, complicated and exciting, but Ron and Hermione were the only ones that could really get hurt. And as Ron was her little boy and Hermione was like a daughter, Mrs. Weasley wasn't sure how okay she was with all of this.

"Clear the plates," she said suddenly, seeing all of the empty plates around the table. "Boys, us girls cooked, you're on cleanup duty."

There was a general groan of protest from the males in the room, but they all got up to help nonetheless, and the females retreated into the living room with the children. There, Teddy and Victoire played house with their cousins, pretending that they were the mummy and the daddy and everyone else was their kids.

"That's foreshadowing if I ever saw it," Fleur, who was sitting next to Hermione, said happily. Her French accent was much less thick than it had been even two years ago and now possessed a British twinge to it. Hermione wondered if Fleur was happy about this. She also wondered what Bill made of it.

"What do you mean?" Ginny asked, looking at Fleur curiously.

"I think they're going to fall in love," Fleur said simply. "It is the Veela blood in me, we always know these things. With Hermione and Ron, for example..."

But she suddenly cut off, looking embarrassed, and Hermione quickly looked away, trying to pretend as though the last fifteen seconds had never happened, when truthfully she was aching with curiosity. A few minutes later, however, a distraction came in the form of the men ambling back into the room, chattering like a group of monkeys. Mrs. Weasley clapped her hands to get everyone's attention, and the whole family looked at her.

"I have some cupcakes that need filling with whipped cream and to be frosted. Who wants to do it?" There was total and complete silence as Mrs. Weasley looked around the room, trying to find someone. "Nobody? I just need two people, and I am exhausted from all that delicious food I made for all of you earlier today." Silence. Mrs. Weasley sighed, looking disappointed in her family, and Hermione glanced around curiously. Usually the Weasleys were more than willing to help. Something was fishy. Suddenly Mrs. Weasley called out, "NOSES!" and there was one collective movement as every single Weasley went to place their finger on her nose. Confused, Hermione followed suit, but she was obviously a second too late, as everyone pointed at her and said,

"Hermione!"

"Hermione was last!"

and,

"It was obviously Hermione."

Hermione laughed and stood up, now understanding the concept of the game.

"Because I'm nice, I won't ask for a rematch," she said. "But for next time... watch out."

"Who was second to last?" Mrs. Weasley asked, and all of the Weasley's spoke at the same time.

"Ron!"

"Ron was second to last!"

and,

"It was obviously Ron."

"Alright, Ron, you're up," said Mrs. Weasley.

Flushing, Ron headed into the kitchen, where the cupcakes were sitting upside down on trays.

"So how do we go about this?" Hermione asked casually, taking in the bins of sugar lying on the counter, the several cans of whipped cream, and the large bags of frosting. Ron cleared his throat.

"Well, you spray the whipped cream into the bottom of the cupcake, then take one of the round pieces in that bowl and fit it in to plug the cupcake. So that the whipped cream filling doesn't fall out, you know. Then just put the frosting on the top and stick it right side up on the tray. Don't bother with the sugar, it's left over from when mum made the cupcakes."

"Sounds simple enough," Hermione said lightly, and she promptly grabbed a can of whipped cream and sprayed it into the bottom of the pastry. Enthused by her success with this, she eagerly reached into the bowl in the middle for a round piece, then suddenly felt a jolt through her system as her hand felt flesh. Hermione looked at the bowl and realized that her hand had landed on top of Ron's. She glanced up to his face, liking the look of awkwardness that was there. It reminded her of when they were at school, and any little thing made Ron go into a state of shock for hours. Then, realizing that her hand was still on Ron's, Hermione snatched it away from the bowl and politely gestured for him to grab his piece from the bowl. He did so, and she got hers, and that was that. The two worked in silence for a long time, paying attention to nothing except to make sure their hands didn't collide, lest - god forbid - they once more feel sparks at the other's touch.

It went well for a while. Ron and Hermione had settled into a relaxed pace after eight or so minutes, and their silence wasn't comfortable, but it wasn't too uncomfortable either. And that was when the worst thing that could have happened happened. Angelina was talking to George about the thing Hermione had said earlier about Ron, and her voice floated into the kitchen, reaching the ears of the exes. Instantly, Ron turned red, and he glanced over at Hermione, who had frozen while she frosted the top of the cupcake she was holding.

"Why did you have to tell them about that?" he asked in the most hostile voice he could muster. Hermione's heart sank. He wanted to talk? Why couldn't he ever have a fear of confrontation? Honestly.

"I'm sorry," Hermione offered meekly. "We were on the subject, and I just figured that you wouldn't care that much."

"I wouldn't care?" Ron hissed quietly. "How the hell could you think I wouldn't care that you told my sisters-in-law something embarrassing about me? And, besides, that isn't your story to tell anymore! I'm not yours. I'm Lavender's. You should have told a story about Vicky."

"Don't call him Vicky!" Hermione said shrilly.

"Vicky!" Ron taunted. "Vicky, Vicky, Vicky, Vic- HEY!" He was suddenly cut short as Hermione shot whipped cream out of the can she was brandishing and directed it at his face. "What was that for?" he demanded, spitting whipped cream out of his mouth.

"Vicky," Hermione said in a highly accurate imitation of Ron. "Vicky, Vicky, Vicky."

"Well you didn't have to waste perfectly good whipped cream for that," Ron said sourly.

"Oh, that wasn't a waste. You deserved it."

"No, I didn't!"

"Yes, you did! Alright, how do you like it when I do this to you?"

"Do what?"

"Lav Lav!" Hermione shrieked in a cruel, girlish voice. "Lav Lav, Lav Lav-"

"Shut UP!" Ron roared.

"-Lav Lav, Lav Lav... RON!"

Because suddenly the creamy substance had ended up on Hermione's face, and Ron was laughing vindictively, thrilled to have one upped her. This was short lived. An angered Hermione grabbed a handful of sugar and threw it in his face.

"Take THAT!" she yelled.

"Oh, it's ON!" Ron yelled back, and suddenly a full out whipped cream war had broken out. Ron directed his can in the direction of Hermione and fired, getting it all over her hair, face, jeans, and jumper. Hermione, in return, picked up two cans and sent the contents flying towards Ron, covering him with even more whipped cream than she was. All to soon, Ron ran out of whipped cream, and he threw his can aside and dived for another one, chucking sugar at Hermione while he attempted to one handedly wrench the safety cap off of the can. Swearing loudly, he whipped out his wand, directed it towards the can, then gave it a little jab. Instantly, the cap popped off. He got another can and popped the top off of that, too, and then, with a roar of victory he was back and better than before.

A few seconds later, both of Hermione's cans ran out and she let out a high-pitched screech as her offensive weapons failed her. Looking around for any type of defense, she grabbed the whole bin of sugar and dumped it on Ron's head, then held it in front of herself as a shield. She let out a call of triumph as the whipped cream that was directed at her hit the bin and fell to the floor, causing Ron to let out a roar of anger. He hit the bin with his hand and it fell down, enabling him to close more of the distance between him and Hermione and spray the whipped cream on her in closer quarters. Desperately, Hermione looked around. Ron was already covered in whipped cream, she needed something different.

She instantly perked up as she noticed the pastry bags lying- fully loaded- at the side of the counter. They wouldn't have worked before, but now Ron was much closer, and it would be easier. Pouncing on one of them, Hermione put both of her hands on the bag part and squeezed with all her might. Blue frosting exploded from the nose of the bag and hit Ron in the face. This material was heavier than the whipped cream, and it hit Ron's face before half of it slid off to his neck and half stayed where it was. Furious though he was that Hermione had gotten herself a different weapon, Ron continued to use his cans and decided, instead of switching, to use the most powerful offensive instrument that he had: his speech.

"Face it," he growled as a huge stream of whipped cream hit Hermione in the chest. "You're just really jealous that I'm with Lavender. It kills you to see me with her, and you know it!"

"No it doesn't!" Hermione argued, sending a rather powerful flow of frosting at Ron as her hands gripped the bag tighter in her anger, "but it's going to kill you to see me with Viktor Krum!"

"Please. I'm not fourteen, and I'm passed sixteen, in case you haven't noticed. I don't care that he's snogged you."

Both of his cans of whipped cream spluttered to a stop, and Hermione's pastry bag ran out of frosting. Both dived for new frosting bags, and were back to spraying each other in no time. Hermione let out a little squeal as the purple frosting in Ron's bag hit her, and Ron gritted his teeth as the white frosting in Hermione's new one got him on the neck.

"That's good!" Hermione retaliated, fiercely gripping the bag. "Because he's done a bit more than snog me!"

"Well that's okay," Ron fired back. "Because I've done a bit more than snog Lavender!"

Hermione laughed derisively.

"Still look like you're eating her face when you snog her?"

"No!" Ron said, turning red.

He dropped his frosting bag and reached into the bowl in the middle, then began pelting the little balls of cupcake bottom at Hermione. Some of them hit her where the frosting was and stuck to her face and neck. She tugged them off and fired them at Ron, so that they stuck to him as well. It was a tiresome routine, and Ron had moved too far away to get hit by the frosting bag anymore. Hermione placed it on the counter and flexed her aching fingers as she ripped of the safety cap off the final whipped cream bottle and began spraying it at Ron, still catching the balls in her hands and throwing them back at Ron.

"I'm Hermione Krum now!" Hermione said tauntingly.

"NO YOU'RE NOT!" Ron roared suddenly. "YOU CAN'T BE! BECAUSE YOU WERE ALWAYS MEANT TO BE HERMIONE WEASLEY, AND YOU-" _pelt_. "-BLOODY-" _pelt_. "-KNOW IT!"

There was a sudden clatter as Hermione's whipped cream can fell to the floor, and she looked at Ron with her mouth hanging open. They stared at each other, both breathing hard and wearing looks of shock.

There was a sudden, brisk noise as Mrs. Weasley slapped her hands together twice and said,

"Ron! Hermione! What were you thinking? Just look at this kitchen!" The startled participants of ex-game number one looked into the doorway to see a huge crowd of Weasleys standing behind Mrs. Weasley, all wearing looks of surprise similar to Ron and Hermione's. Desperate to see anything but the disappointed look on Mrs. Weasley's face, Hermione glanced around at the kitchen. Whipped cream and frosting were clinging to the floor, the cabinets, the counters, and the ceiling. Sugar was all over the floor, and the whole scene honestly gave off the illusion that they were standing in some sort of giant gingerbread house. "No, never mind the room. Look at yourselves!" If the state of Ron was any indication of how Hermione looked, she had absolutely no desire to look at herself whatsoever. Whipped cream and frosting looked adorable on Ron, but she was sure it would look much more questionable on her. "I'll take care of the kitchen. Just go clean yourselves up."

"How are we supposed to do that?" Ron asked, indignance decorating his tone even though he had nothing to be indignant about.

"Lick it off of each other," George suggested, and both Ron and Hermione turned bright red.

"Oh good lord, they've done that before, haven't they?" Ginny said with a stricken look. She buried her face into Harry's shoulder and moaned, "Gross mental images, terrible mental images," while Charlie winked at Ron and said,

"Nice one, little bro."

Ron looked like he was about to accept this praise, but a pointed glare from Hermione stopped him short.

"Why don't you go out into the rain?" Fleur suggested from somewhere behind Mrs. Weasley.

"It'll get a lot of the stuff off," Bill agreed. Ron nodded his thanks, then headed for the door. Just as he was about to open it, he glanced back at Hermione.

"Coming?" he asked, staring at her. Hermione dithered on it for the moment, while all of the females held their breath. In the end she nodded and scurried out the door after Ron, into the pouring rain.

"Where are we going?" she called, jogging to catch up to him as the door swung shut behind her. Ron didn't answer, just kept walking towards something at a very fast pace. A few seconds later their destination became apparent as Hermione reached a rusty set of swings and plopped himself down on one of them. Hermione tentatively sat down on the one next to him, and they swung back and forth in silence, both secretly thinking that it would probably be quicker to do George's whole licking thing. Ron's voice suddenly broke through the pouring rain, and Hermione looked up in shock, a jolt going through her system as she saw how he looked with his hair plastered to his forehead and a remorseful expression gracing his features. Looking up at him, she realized he was staring at her, and a slow smile spread across his face as he saw her eyes raise to his.

"You've got whipped cream clinging to your eyelashes," he whispered.

"You have a huge smudge on your nose," she replied.

"Just... forget what I said earlier, okay?" Ron muttered.

"Of course," Hermione responded quickly. "Consider it forgotten."

She was in shock. It still hadn't quite hit her yet.

"Right," he said. "Thanks, Mione." Her breath hitched, and she leaned onto the metal chain on the swing for support. Ron hadn't called her that name in so long, and it felt impossibly good, although she didn't quite understand why.

"I'm not jealous," he said suddenly, and Hermione smirked.

"Yes, this seems a lot like forgetting."

"Really," Ron said, over her laughter. "I'm not jealous."

"Sure!"

"I'll prove it to you!" he said, and Hermione stopped short.

"What?"

"Dinner. Friday night. Bring Viktor, and I'll bring Lavender. We can... reminisce."

"Okay," Hermione said after staring at him appraisingly. "Lets." A slow grin stretched across her face. "Now, about these swings... bet I could go higher!"

"No way! I can!"

And they were off.

**A/N: This is one of my favorite chapters, and I feel that it really starts to show the spirit of the story and where the story is going. I feel it is essential that I say that both of the characters act in immoral ways in the story, and I do not want Hermione OR Ron hate in my inbox or reviews. Please, feel free to debate the choices that they make and who is more at fault for the entire thing(to which, by the way, I have still not been able to come up with a full answer to, and I've written the entire story. Believe me, they both make mistakes), but no calling anybody a douchebag or bitch or bastard- Ron and Hermione don't deserve that and neither do I. **

**That said, thank you for any and all positive reviews that you give me! If you have any questions about a characters' actions or need something clarified because it seems so disgustingly wrong to you, I probably have a reason, so feel free to review so I can explain myself. Give me a chance. In return, I'll try to take constructive criticism well, something that I am not very good at. Hope you enjoyed the chapter! **

**Now I will sit here and twiddle my thumbs until tmblue updates one of her stories, because that is pretty much my life in a nutshell. ~writergirl8**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Before we start this chapter, I need to say something, and this is important so please read it. This story is a story about adults. It plays with morals (questioning them) and lines are crossed. Ron and Hermione are adults, not saints, and they are portrayed this way in the story. None of the Weasleys, Lavender, or Viktor are completely innocent or full of righteousness. They all make mistakes and form opinions and sometimes they don't do the right thing. Sometimes it is difficult to see what the right thing is in this story. If you are going to have issues with anyone in this story (ESPECIALLY RON AND HERMIONE) being anything less than an angel, please do not read on. The story completely centers on some plots that people might find offensive because of their morals, and I accept that, but I don't want to hear about it. If you have an issue with the plot and the way the characters are acting, I don't want to hear complaints in a review unless the criticism is constructive, and I especially don't want flames. I don't want a review yelling at me for the way these characters are acting, because I have warned you right here. There are no graphic sex scenes, swearing is a non-issue, and there is no violence but sometimes the characters act irresponsibly (although not to the point that it warrants an M rating in my opinion). If you don't think you'll be able to deal with that, please don't read it. Also, every little tiny piece of this story has been thought out and pieced together over a lot of writing, many editing sessions, a ton of thinking, and a lot of going back and realizing that my consistency is WAY off :) Sometimes that might get confusing, but if you have any questions feel free to ask. Bear in mind, though, that if you are curious, confused, or bothered by something, it will probably be responded to at some point in the story. You just have to be a little bit patient! My advice for you is to pay attention to the little things. You'll know what little things to pay attention to when the story is done (which isn't helpful to you now, but it is true) and everything will make sense, but for now just keep a keen eye out. EVERYTHING happens for a reason, everything connects, all questions are answered. (Believe me, I've tested this story on three people and they were all very satisfied with it). Thanks for reading, and I hope you'll heed my warning if you're going to be annoyed by this story. ~writergirl8**

As exciting as the prospect of dinner with Ron had seemed at the time, now that the euphoria of the whole thing had blown over, Hermione was officially beginning to panic. She had started her new job on Monday, and didn't feel that dinner with Ron Weasley and Lavender Brown was the best way to end her first week. Usually she would end her first week of work with a nice bubble bath, a good book, and maybe some wine. In this situation, she probably would have wine, but the whole scenario was much less relaxing, and she was half hoping that on that night she would be drinking something much stronger. She knew that she would need her wits about her for the whole thing, but in all honesty she didn't want to remember anything when she woke up the next day. As a matter of fact, she was planning on pre-brewing a hangover potion Thursday night so that it would be all ready for her on Saturday morning.

"Hermione? You there?" said Ginny's voice, and Hermione was startled out of her thoughts by her best friend looking at her curiously. "What is it?" Ginny asked.

Hermione looked around has she contemplated her answer. Should she tell Ginny how nervous she was about the prospect of this whole dinner? Or should she keep it quiet? She usually told Ginny everything. But Ginny had enough on her plate. Hermione's eyes darted around the restaurant, and she stirred the straw in her glass of water, then played with the fork she was using to eat her salad.

"Just... thinking," she said finally, and while Ginny looked suspicious, Luna did not.

"Wrackspurts get to you?" Luna asked sympathetically.

"Yes, the wrackspurts got me," Hermione nodded, and Luna patted her on the shoulder.

"I think you have an infestation."

"I'll definitely look into that."

Luna looked happy enough at this, because she beamed at Hermione and then turned back to Ginny.

"Sorry, what were you saying?" she said, and Ginny rolled her eyes and continued.

"Well, as you know, I can't play Quidditch anymore, seeing as I have two children. So, that said, I resigned from the team." Hermione and Luna both let out little noises of surprise. "I just realized that I really want to be a full time mum, you know?"

"You'll never be able to do it," Hermione said, shaking her head. "You're too... restless."

"Exactly," Ginny said, nodding. There was a bit of a gleam in her eye. "Well, I thought I was going to get another job. You know, to fill in the time when James was at muggle preschool and when I was bored. We don't need me to have another job, but I kind of wanted one. And then, I found out that my friend Aimee is getting married."

"Oh, yes, two and two definitely equals five in this situation," Hermione said, and Ginny held up a finger.

"Fine. You don't see it. I'll continue. Look, Aimee wants this enormous white wedding, but she doesn't have time to plan one. She's a Healer, you see, and she's constantly busy and working. Well, she was at my wedding, and she loved it, so she asked me to plan hers! She's not paying me, of course, but she'll pay for the whole wedding and I get to invite whoever I want along to it to see my work, and it's absolutely perfect, don't you think?"

"Well, what did you say, Ginny?" Luna asked.

"Yes, of course!" Ginny squealed.

"Congratulations! You're going to have so much fun," Hermione said almost enviously.

"There's a little snag, though," Ginny said, and Hermione and Luna glanced at each other before saying,

"What?"

"I need help."

"Oh no," Hermione said, shaking her head. "Ginny, you know I don't want anything to do with weddings until it's time for my own! Not since-"

But suddenly, Ginny burst into tears.

"Please, Hermione!" she said through her wails. "I don't think I'll be able to do this without you... oh, please? Please? I'll do anything!"

Feeling suddenly caught between a rock and a hard place, Hermione stared at Ginny with her mouth slightly open. She didn't need this on top of everything else, but she did want Ginny to stop crying. The tears continued, growing alarmingly loud. People in the restaurant were starting to stare at them.

"Alright, alright!" Hermione called over her friend's sobs. "Ginny, I'll do it."

Instantly, Ginny straightened up. She sniffed a few times.

"Really?"

"Yes. It... it'll be fun, right?" she glanced to her left, asking for Luna's confirmation, but Luna simply shrugged, looking amused.

"Yay!" Ginny said, clapping her hands together. Hermione groaned.

"I forgot how _girly _you can get with weddings. Weddings and clothing... other than that, you're just like your brothers."

"So, I thought we could start looking for a cake place, the cake that Harry and I had was good, but it won't be big enough, we need a wedding more like-"

"Don't forget, Ginny, I have a job!" Hermione said warningly. "I can't just take off and-"

"Oh, that shouldn't be a problem," Ginny said happily, seemingly undeterred by Hermione's less than enthusiastic interruption.

"And why not?"

"Because Aimee's dad is your boss."

"Damn," Hermione muttered, while Luna let out a snort.

"Nice one, Ginny."

"Thanks," Ginny said, beaming.

"Fine," Hermione sighed, "but can we talk about my problems now?"

"Sure," Ginny said brightly. "What's up?" Hermione gave her a look. "Well, I know, but Luna doesn't know," Ginny clarified.

"Right," Hermione said. "Well, Viktor and I are having dinner with Ron and Lavender Friday night."

"Wow," Luna said excitedly. "That should be interesting."

Hermione's eyebrows raised.

"Interesting? It's my personal hell!"

"No, in your personal hell Ron's dead and there's absolutely no chance of him ever being with anyone again, much less you or Lavender Brown," Luna shrugged. Ginny and Hermione stared at her.

"Good point," Hermione said a bit faintly.

"Well executed," Ginny added. "So what are you doing in preparation for it?"

"As you know, I gave Viktor a binder full of stuff about our life. I'm going over there tonight to quiz him on it, and then he'll quiz me."

"What's your approach?" Luna questioned her.

"Approach?" Hermione frowned.

"Like, what kind of couple are you?" Luna clarified.

"Dignified," Hermione answered. "Not too lovey dovey or affectionate. Just... married."

Ginny smirked. "Wow. I really feel the romance. You go girl!"

"I don't want to have to be snogging him every ten seconds!" Hermione argued.

"Snogging Viktor Krum... you could do worse," Luna said fairly.

"Just pretend he's Ron," Ginny suggested.

"That could be potentially embarrassing. Besides, when Ron and I were together did we ever snog in public?"

"Um, yes," Luna said.

"All the time," Ginny said adamantly.

"It was sickening."

"You were so in love I wanted to gag."

"Everywhere you went, you just could _not_ keep your hands off of each other!"

"That's atrocious!" Hermione said. "We never snogged in public- we aren't fans of PDA."

"Oh, shut up, Hermione," Ginny groaned.

"You know that's not true," Luna agreed.

"Prove it!" Hermione said indignantly.

"Be right back," Ginny said. She leaped up and headed off towards the bathroom, then came back three minutes later brandishing a large photo album.

"That was in the bathroom?" Luna asked incredulously.

"Don't be silly," Ginny said as she plopped herself back into her chair. "I popped over to Ron's house and grabbed this." She didn't mention that it had been out and open on the coffee table, instead of in it's place in the large cabinet where Ron kept all his pictures of him and Hermione. It seemed that he had taken it out the night before and had fallen asleep looking at it. "Look," she commanded Hermione, popping it open, "see all the PDA?"

Hermione took the photo album and immediately felt a lump rise in her throat. Some of the pictures were taken by family members, and some were clippings from The Daily Prophet. Hermione remembered being so annoyed at the time with the way The Prophet refused to leave them alone. But now, she had never been more grateful. Because there were so many things that she would have forgotten, things that she hadn't realized she missed.

Her and Ron, tucked in a corner at the Burrow, kissing each other with everything they were worth. And there they were at Harry and Ginny's wedding, laughing and kissing. There was a whole page of pictures of them blushing simultaneously as they danced together at Bill and Fleur's wedding. Hermione's favorite one was how startled she looked and how red Ron was as he put his hands on her waist. And there they were at Hermione's graduation, snogging behind the whomping willow. And when the Hogwarts monument was erected... they weren't kissing, but Ron was holding Hermione, and they were crying together. And Hermione helping with dinner at The Burrow, while Ron kissed her neck from behind her, attempting to distract her from her task. She watched herself completely give up on the soup and turn around to snog him. If Hermione remembered correctly, dinner had burned that night.

"Okay, you win," Hermione said quietly. She continued to flip through the pages of the large book, all of which had PDA splashed all over them. Then, suddenly, _she_ burst into tears.

"What's up with all the crying today?" Luna moaned, as Ginny immediately rushed over to comfort her friend.

"C'mon, Hermione, don't cry, they're just pictures!"

"I forgot what it was like," Hermione hiccuped, and Ginny frowned.

"What _what_ was like?"

"The past two years, I have been completely focused on everything that was wrong with my romantic relationship with Ron. I never, ever thought about what had been so right about _us_, and it got to the point that I had convinced myself that I'd had a silly, worthless schoolgirl crush and accidentally gotten myself engaged from it. But it wasn't that, and I forgot, and now I've remembered, and-"

She became rather incoherent at this point, and Ginny patted her on the back affectionately, while Luna sang_Favorite Things_ from _The Sound of Music_ under her breath.

"What are you doing?" Ginny hissed as Hermione began sobbing harder.

"What? _Favorite Things_ is scientifically proven to make anyone feel better when they're crying!"

"Their song is _Something Good_ from that same movie!"

"Oh. Oooh, that fits! Nice one, Hermione!"

Hermione sobbed harder. "Damn you, Luna!"

"I always thought their song was _Vicky's Girl_," Ginny joked, and the two laughed loudly while Hermione glared at them through her tears. After a while, however, she recovered herself. She straightened up, and Ginny handed her a tissue to fix her makeup with.

"It'll be fine, Hermione," Luna said soothingly.

"Yeah," Ginny agreed. "We'll make you up and put you in some hot outfit and by the end of the night Ron will have ditched Lavender and you'll be happily returned to your constant PDA."

"Sounds good," Hermione said. "How much makeup are we going to need, exactly?"

OOO

"I look like a... well, I don't even know what I look like. Unfortunately, I am unable to come up with proper adjectives to describe how I look."

"I'm sure you look fine, Herm-own-ninny," Viktor called from the living room.

"It's HERMIONE!" Luna yelled for the fourth time, looking absolutely beside herself. "Not Herm-own-ninny! Honestly," she added, turning to Ginny and Hermione with a bemused look on her face, "what _has_ become of marriage these days? A husband unable to pronounce his own wife's name!"

"We're not really married, Luna," Hermione reminded her friend for what seemed to be the seventieth time.

"Oh, right," Luna said, shaking her head as though to clear it. "and neither are- OW!"

"Oh, sorry, Luna! Did I get you with that curling iron?" Ginny asked nonchalantly.

"Um, yeah! What was tha- oh, right."

"What?" Hermione demanded, but Ginny shook her head.

"Nothing, Herms."

"Did you just call me Herms?"

"Maybe."

"Why in merlin's good name would you do that?"

"I was attempting to distract you from the whole Luna thing... and now I wish I were dead."

"Damn straight you do."

"Done!" Luna said, stepping back from Hermione to admire her work. "Your nails are perfect."

"I'm telling you, this isn't me!" Hermione insisted. "He'll know right from the start that something is fishy."

"Of course he won't," Ginny said breezily. "He's known you as Hermione Granger, but he's never known you as Hermione Krum."

"One person does not change this much in two years."

"Yes, well, one person shouldn't get married in the space of two years, either. Try standing, will you?"

Hermione nodded, stood up, then promptly fell down again.

"Merlin's-!"

"High heels, _check_," Luna said, looking extremely satisfied.

"I hate these. Please remove them from my feet pronto."

Ginny bent down, carefully inspecting the high heeled black dragon-hide boots that reached Hermione's knees. Then she stood up and inspected the outfit as a whole.

"Nope. The boots stay. They look hot."

"Ginny!"

"Hermione, aren't you trying to convince Ron?"

"Yes, but-"

"And in convincing Ron, won't he become jealous?"

"Obviously, but-"

"And when Ron becomes jealous, won't he want you back?"

"While that is the hope-"

"Well then stop arguing! My god, you're incorrigible! We know what's good for you! In fact, from now on, I am going to be making all of your major life decisions for you."

"What?"

"Well, alright. Romantic decisions."

"But-"

"SHUT UP!" Luna cried. "Let Ginny make your life's choices- obviously you're not doing it right."

"Fine," Hermione said,"but I don't like the sound of this at all."

"Tough. Viktor, come see your wife."

A few seconds later, Viktor's head appeared in Hermione's room. He laughed when he saw her. She was wearing a long sleeved, dark red v-neck shirt, and her lipstick and nails matched it. Her jeans were an extremely deep navy, and they were rather tight.

"Hermione, you have an arse!" Luna had said when Hermione had put them on for the first time.

"Vat did you do to her hair?" Viktor asked now. "It looks so different."

Ginny picked up a piece fondly.

"Well, the ringlets will only last for about six hours, but I doubt Hermione will need them that long, anyways. I had to cast this spell a couple of times to get it right, though, and I needed to use her muggle curling iron for some pieces. Never have I ever worked with hair so difficult."

"You did a good job," Viktor said. "Although I vas always under the impression that Veasley liked her more natural."

Ginny shrugged. "Let me have my fun, will you? Besides, his favorite part of her is her eyes, so we worked hardest on those." She turned to Hermione. "Your hangover potion is in the fridge, there're four boxes of tissues next to your bed, and there's ice cream in your freezer. Don't forget, we're going to be going cake testing tomorrow at four, alright?"

"Okay," Hermione said, although she looked so nauseous the others wondered if she had actually heard a thing that Ginny had said.

"Good luck," Ginny sighed, kissing her on the cheek. "I'm going to go home and read James his bedtime story... feel free to come over at three AM if you need to."

"Thanks," Hermione responded gratefully.

"Same," Luna added. The two witches headed over to the fireplace, glancing back several times to see Hermione still surveying her refection with a look of utter vexation.

"She'll be fine," Ginny murmured to Luna as she reached for the floo powder.

"Of course she will," Luna said.

"So why does it feel like we're sending her on a suicide mission?"

Luna shrugged.

"You can go first," she told Ginny. Ginny threw the powder down, stepped into the fireplace, and shouted out an address. But it wasn't hers. It was Ron's. She stumbled into his apartment three seconds later, feeling woozy and slightly guilty.

"RON?" she called out, and she heard her husband's voice announce that they were in Ron's room. Ginny knocked before entering, then peaked her head through to see Ron in front of the mirror, looking apprehensive, Harry next to him, his expression annoyed, and Lavender on the bed, looking excited.

"Yep, that's the one," Lavender said as Ginny entered. "I like it. What about you, Ginny?"

"It's fine," Ginny said, supposing that they were talking about the shirt Ron was wearing. "I just came to wish you luck, Ron."

"Thanks," Ron muttered. "'m fine," he added, although his face was ashen gray.

"You'll be great," Ginny said affectionately, straightening his collar. "You'll be brilliant. Oh, and don't forget, cake tasting at four o'clock tomorrow."

"Right," Ron said, perking up instantly. "Can't wait for that!"

"But you have to help with the rest of the wedding if you want cake, alright? This isn't just an eat and ditch thing. And I have witnesses."

"Fine," Ron said.

"Anyone else have a bad feeling about this?" Harry asked unexpectedly. Ginny bit her lip as she looked over at him, wondering how the night could possibly end on a good note.

All misgivings aside, however, Ron, Hermione, and their fake significant others arrived at the restaurant right on time. They met in front of the door, and, admittedly, the first few moments there were extremely awkward. Ron sized up Krum, trying to take in his facial expression, which was reasonably blank. Hermione glanced over at Lavender's outfit- a simple purple dress- and found that she liked it better than her own. Out of all the things that had been bothering Hermione about this whole occasion, this took the cake. Hermione squeezed her lips together in an effort not to say something she'd regret and let Viktor do the talking. While he said something along the lines of, "vell, isn't this funny," Hermione found her eyes traveling upwards from the crack in the sidewalk that she was examining and wandering over to Ron's own sapphire eyes. They were, indeed, staring at her as well, but when her eyes reached his he dropped his gaze quite hastily. Ten seconds later, when he looked back up, Hermione was still staring at him. Unable to help himself, Ron flushed and frowned simultaneously. She grinned and Ron gave her a nervous smile. There they stayed, completely ignorant to the world, until-

"Herm-own-ninny?"

Hermione glanced around to see Viktor staring at her expectantly. Behind her, Lavender smirked and elbowed Ron in the ribs.

"What?" Ron snapped, his hand moving to massage his side.

Lavender rolled her eyes.

"Never mind. We'll work on that."

"Shall we go in?" Hermione suggested, and Viktor nodded and opened the door for her. Hermione beamed. "Thanks, love."

Hearing Ron's knuckles crack only made it fifteen times better. He was jealous! He was jealous and hurting and it was bloody brilliant. Heart singing, Hermione approached the hostess and gave her the name that the group's reservation was under. The four of them silently made their way over to their table. As Hermione stood in front of a chair, Ron instinctively pulled it out for her. It was something his father had once told him to do, and something that he did every time he was one a date with Hermione. Even being around her made him automatically pull her chair out for her, and as Hermione looked from Ron to the chair with blatant surprise on her face, Ron flushed his brightest red yet. Lavender, attempting to rescue the situation, laughed and said,

"Oh, Ronnie. Ever the gentleman!"

Ron's expression turned instantly hard at the sound of his 'fiancée' calling him _Ronnie_, but he let go of Hermione's chair and pulled Lavender's out nonetheless. Viktor pushed Hermione's chair in once she had sat down, and then everyone was seated. The waitress came over, and all four of them eagerly and slightly desperately ordered wine. Then, there was nothing else to do but communicate. As Ron and Hermione were buried behind their menus in a large effort not to look at each other, Viktor and Lavender knew they had to get the ball rolling.

"So, how long have you been married?" Lavender asked casually. Beside her, Ron cast frantic eyes, but she payed them no mind. He'd have to deal with the hurt of the marriage sometime or another, and sooner was probably better than later.

"A year," Viktor said.

"We got married February 14th, so our anniversary's actually in a month," Hermione added brightly.

"Oh, what are you up to that night?" Lavender asked enthusiastically.

"Oh, we're probably going to have dinner at home, and then..." the wine came, and Hermione drank some to disguise her blush. Ron took a very large gulp. "Well... we're trying to have a baby."

The desired effect occurred instantly. Ron spat out his wine and turned to glare at Hermione with furious eyes. She looked up at him quite innocently, but her eyes were dancing, taunting him, daring him to break.

"That's wonderful!" Lavender squealed. "Wh-?"

But Ron suddenly cut her off.

"That's interesting," he said in a hard voice, "because Lavender and I have already started a family."

"_What_?" said the other three simultaneously.

"It's a shotgun wedding we're having," Ron said smugly. "I'm going to be a dad."

Hermione let out a strange, strangled sound that seemed somewhere between a choke, a gag, and a gasp. Viktor turned concerned eyes in her direction, but she had her mouth firmly closed, her expression a blank mask. He could see the panic in her eyes as she attempted not to fall to pieces. She stood up abruptly.

"I feel nauseous."

Then she scampered off toward the bathroom. Viktor pushed his chair back and, with an apologetic grimace at the other two said,

"Please excuse us for a moment."

As soon as he was gone, Lavender rounded on Ron.

"WHAT WAS THAT?" she yelled, slapping the back of his head.

"Ouch!" Ron yelped, and Lavender rolled her eyes.

"Yes, ouch. _No really_, ouch. What in Merlin's good and holy name were you BLOODY thinking?"

"Revenge," Ron stated plainly.

"Revenge?" Lavender repeated. "For _what_, exactly? Revenge for wanting to have a child with her husband? Oh, that BITCH!" Ron just stared at her with his eyes on fire. "You have turned this ploy into a shotgun wedding! This was supposed to be romantic, Ron!"

"No, it wasn't. It was supposed to get the job done."

"Not for me," Lavender argued. "The romance was supposed to be _fun_ for _me_!"

"You still get to play matchmaker," Ron grumbled. Lavender sighed.

"Go talk to her."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Oh my god, I'm not playing this game with you! Talk to her or I'm ending this right now!"

Keeping up a constant and consistent flow of obscenities, Ron got out of his chair and made his way to the back. Supposing that Hermione and Krum were in the womens' room, Ron headed in that direction. He pressed his ear again the door, and the sound of weeping confirmed his suspicions. Opening the door a little bit, Ron stuck his head in. Viktor and Hermione were seated on a couch, Krum's face shocked, Hermione's head in her hands.

"Vy didn't you tell anyone?" Krum asked in a hoarse whisper.

"Would you?" Hermione responded. "Everything Ron has ever done wrong in our relationship- in our _life_ - completely completely pales in comparison to this. I look perfect, blameless, don't I? But in reality, I'm worse than Ron."

"You have to tell."

"No. We're not telling. We're not doing anything."

"But, Herm-own-ninny-"

"It's my decision. Don't you understand? I'll loose everything!"

There was a long pause.

"Stand up," Viktor said softly. "I think you should fix your makeup."

Ron practically catapulted himself back to his table.

"What happened?" Lavender demanded, but he shook his head and then leaned in and kissed her. Her eyes opened in shock, but then she saw Krum and Hermione approaching over Ron's shoulder, which made her understand. "Sorry!" Lavender said when they got to the snogging couple.

"No, _I'm_ sorry," Hermione said weakly. She was leaning against Krum, and she looked rather pale. "We're going to have to take a rain check."

"That's alright!" Lavender said cheerfully. "We have to go home, and- er – read baby books anyways. So... yeah."

Hermione leaned her head on Krum's shoulder as they walked out. Ron didn't know what all the blubbering in the bathroom had been about, but it had scared the hell out of him. Hermione had a secret. And Ron thought he knew what it was.

What if she still loved him? 


	6. Chapter 6

To Ron's immense surprise, Ginny wasn't nearly as interested in Hermione's secret as he was. The other females in his family, however, were rather intrigued when he told them, and kept up a relentless flow of conversation on it during a family gathering to celebrate Victoire's birthday.

"It's because she still loves him," Fleur said decidedly. "I know it is."

"No, no," Angelina said, shaking her head for what seemed like the twentieth time, "It can't be that, not at all."

"Why not?" Fleur asked impatiently.

"Because Viktor is her husband," Audrey said insistently. "How do you think Bill would react if you told him you were still in love with your Yule Ball date?"

Angelina nodded in agreement, and Fleur reluctantly accepted that there had to be another secret. None of them, however, could come up with anything that seemed remotely plausible. Their suggestions and ideas had become quite out of control by the time Ginny stepped in and told them to shut up about Hermione's secret.

"You know, don't you?" Angelina said, scrutinizing her sister-in-law very carefully.

"Of course not," Ginny said impatiently. "I just don't think that we'll ever be able to come up with it, and even if we do we need confirmation from Hermione. There simply isn't enough evidence at this point."

Audrey brightened.

"But you're best friends with Hermione! You can get it out of her, can't you?"

Ginny flushed, but bit her lip and nodded.

"I'll try. For Ron."

Ron smiled at his sister, who grinned back at him weakly. He noticed that her hand had come to rest on her stomach, a nervous tick that she had picked up when she was pregnant with James.

"What are you nervous about?" he asked her.

"I just don't like the idea of prodding Hermione for information. If she hasn't told me, she doesn't want to tell me, you know?" Ginny said. She shook her head and shrugged. "But for you, anything. We have to go, though. It was a lovely party, Fleur. I can't wait for next year."

Ginny hugged her sisters-in-law, then motioned for her brother to follow her out of the house. Once they had reached the parameter of the land, they turned on their heels and apparated out of the area, instantly ending up right in front of a cake shop in Hogsmeade. Ron licked his lips in anticipation.

"How many cakes do you think we'll be sampling?" he asked eagerly, and Ginny shrugged.

"I don't know. But there are real people in there, so don't talk with your mouth open or anything. Don't embarrass me, okay?"

Ron nodded.

"I'll make a decent attempt, but I'll make no promises."

"Fair enough."

Ron opened the door for Ginny and she swept through it, surreptitiously glancing around the shop when he wasn't looking. The person she wanted to see was standing there with her mouth open, her eyes wide, and her brows constricted together.

"Right," Ron said, closing the door. "Where's the- oh God."

"Um, so-" Ginny started, but at the same exact time Hermione and Ron shouted,

"GINNY!"

"Sorry?" Ginny offered, although she didn't really seem that apologetic, causing Ron and Hermione to both throw her scathing looks.

"How_ could_ you?" Hermione moaned, getting out of her chair. "You know what I'm going through right now!"

"And you know what_ I'm_ going through!" Ron interjected angrily. "It's no cakewalk, and you're just making it harder by making me be in the same room as-"

"Look!" Ginny shouted over them. "This is exactly why I am doing this! Because I know what you are both going through right now. Don't you get it? You feel awkward and unhappy around each other, but it doesn't have to be that way! It never had to be that way, you're just making it that way because the both of you insist on making being in love about fifteen times harder than it actually it is. Now, you both promised to stay with me here, and a wizard's promise is binding, so you're just going to have to deal with it and suffer in silence."

"Why in silence?" Hermione asked snootily.

"Because I swear to God if I hear one peep of complaint from either of you, I'm going to kill you with my bare freaking hands."

"Good to know," Ron choked.

"Now, Ron, go tell the owner of the shop that Ginny Potter is here, will you?"

Ron nodded and left without another word. As soon as he was gone, Hermione turned to Ginny, her eyes shining brightly.

"Do you think he bought it?" she asked.

"Of course he bought it," Ginny replied flippantly.

"Great!" Hermione said, sitting back in her chair with a satisfied expression. Then she sat up. "But Ginny, don't tell him, alright?"

"I won't," Ginny responded. "Ron will never know that you basically begged me to invite him so that you could spend more time with him and take a stab at friendship even though he's completely unavailable."

"Thanks," Hermione said, looking pained. She stood. "I'm going to go to the bathroom."

"If you cry, be sure to fix your makeup!" Ginny called after her.

Ron arrived at the table three seconds later.

"Where'd Hermione go?"

"She had a call from Viktor," Ginny fibbed.

Ron cracked his knuckles. When Ginny gave him a pointed look he sighed, then slumped forward onto and table and buried his head in his hands. She reached over and patted him on the shoulder.

"It'll be okay, Ron," she said softly.

"How can it?" came Ron's muffled reply. "She's married, Ginny."

"I swear to you, Ron- everything will turn out the way you want it to."

He looked up, seeming a bit scandalized.

"I couldn't break up her marriage!"

Ginny looked stricken.

"Of course not! I didn't mean to imply-"

"I want her to be happy," Ron continued, "and while I'd rather her be happy with me, if that's not possible..." He trailed off, staring at the wall, then suddenly seemed to come to himself and turned to Ginny. "Do you think she'll figure it out?"

"No way."

"You won't tell her, will you?"

"I won't," Ginny responded. "Hermione will never know that you basically begged me to invite her so that you could spend more time with her and take a stab at friendship even though she's completely unavailable."

"Brilliant, thanks," Ron said, just as Hermione appeared back at their table.

Although both had claimed that they wanted to try being friends, the atmosphere at the table was undeniably tense. No one seemed to know what to say, and Hermione and Ron were playing that juvenile game during which they both took turns looking at each other, flushing every time the other one caught them. Ginny rolled her eyes and kept up a constant flow of conversation, introducing topics that she thought would tempt the both of them into a chattering mood. Unfortunately, not even the latest Cannons Quidditch game enabled Ron to speak, and Hermione wasn't swayed by current events either. In short, Ginny thought, they were screwed. The relief was almost tangible when a distraction arrived in the form of cake, and all of them made sure to chew extremely slowly so that they wouldn't be required to say anything except grunt an occasional,

"This one's good," or "Wow, yummy!"

When they were finally finished with all the selections, the baker gave them a chance to discuss which one was the best.

"Either of you have a favorite?" Ginny inquired.

"Chocolate raspberry," Hermione and Ron said simultaneously. Both of them turned to look at each other with obvious surprise on their faces, but neither said anything, and neither looked at Ginny, who was attempting to hold in her great shouts of laughter and delight. Honestly, getting married would have been easy for Ron and Hermione, had they actually taken that step. They agreed on half the unimportant stuff, and the other half was the stuff they fought about in leiu of flirting. Both of them were too strong willed to be able to be with someone that was a vanilla person when they liked chocolate- if that made any sense. But, then, when had Ron and Hermione ever really made sense? They just worked, because they were _Ron and Hermione_. Over the course of their relationship, the bickering had died out considerably, as the sexual tension had been easily solved.

"I liked the lemon one, but I guess I'm outvoted," Ginny said cheerfully. "I'll bring a sample over to Aimee at work, and if she likes it, we'll use it. Thanks guys!"

Ginny sped out of the shop so quickly Ron and Hermione were still seated. Now they were alone, and unlike before, they were simply staring at each other awkwardly.

"I'll... er... take you home, if you want," Ron suggested in a small voice.

Hermione's eyes widened in surprise, and she nodded quickly.

"That would be wonderful, thank you," she said. "I- er- often have trouble apparating after eating cake."

_Oh, wow._ Hermione thought to herself. _That was the most idiotic thing I've said in quite a while.  
><em>  
>Ron didn't seem to think so, however. He nodded like he knew exactly what she was talking about, then stood up.<p>

"Where're you staying?"

"Actually, I have a little place right down the street."

"So you don't need to apparate..." Ron said slowly.

"Goodness me, I completely forgot!"

Hermione flashed Ron a guilty smile while inwardly wondering how red she was. Ron, meanwhile, was staring at her as though doing so would uncover the hidden mysteries of the earth.

"You're Hermione," he said suddenly. "You don't forget things."

"And you're Ron," was all Hermione could come up with. "Isn't that just Jim dandy?"

_OH MY GOD, WHERE IS THIS COMING FROM?  
><em>  
>Ron burst out laughing, and, slowly, Hermione began to laugh too. Neither of them could quite remember the last time they had let themselves laugh so hard. It had to have been over two years ago. The past two years had been completely full of desolation and depression. They had been too focused on being unhappy to laugh like this.<p>

"Want to go to the Three Broomsticks?" Ron asked suddenly. "For old times' sakes?"

Hermione's mind instantly flashed back to when they had first started dating, and how she'd been at Hogwarts and he'd been at auror training, and neither of them had been able to keep their hands off of each other in that pub because of how much they had missed each other. She suddenly realized that not only had Ginny been right about their PDA, she had been _under _exaggerating.

"You mean publicly embarrassing ourselves?" Hermione questioned, laughing.

"Yes, definitely," Ron agreed. "Those were the good old days."

"Yeah, they were," Hermione said quietly. She glanced down at her hands and noticed the gold ring on her finger. "Sure," she found herself saying. "It wouldn't hurt to get a butterbeer."

Or a firewhiskey.

Ron's gaze, too, had dropped to her hand.

"So," he said casually, "what's up with the gold?"

"What do you mean?" Hermione's brows constricted as she looked up at him.

"You always wanted a silver wedding band. You never liked gold."

She found herself wanting to ask, again, how he remembered, but she couldn't bring herself to do it.

"Yes, well, um... I just... he wanted gold," she said lamely.

"Nice of you," Ron said. "And speaking of rings... where's your engagement one?"

Hermione could feel moisture starting to pool up in her eyes.

"I didn't want one," she said slowly. Ron looked shocked.

"Why not?" And then, without warning, Hermione burst into tears. "Hermione!" Ron said, and then, instinctively, he began to cradle her in his arms. She cried against him, and he was so lost in the scent of her hair he didn't even register the fact that he was sniffing the hair of a married woman. She was still sobbing loudly and attracting rather a lot of attention, so he began to guide her towards the resident part of Hogsmeade. She seemed to know where he was taking her, and soon they ended up in front of a very familiar and extremely Hermione-ish cottage. "Uh, Hermione?" Ron said, and she looked up at him.

"Yeah?"

"Is this where you're living?" And suddenly she turned a bright, brilliant red and buried her face in his shoulder again. It was as though she didn't want to look at him, didn't want to see how red he was. Slowly, she nodded. Ron felt his throat ache. "I... I can't believe it."

She suddenly became quite aware that she was sobbing into Ron Weasley's shoulder, and she backed away from him rather quickly.

"Well, it was available," Hermione said, slightly defensively, "and it's quite a nice place, you know."

"Right," Ron said slowly. "And it has nothing to do with the fact that it's where I used to live when you were still at Hogwarts."

He met Hermione's eyes, and she swallowed hard.

"Well, maybe a little," she admitted. "It just holds some really nice memories, okay Ron?"

Determined as he was to simply be her friend, Ron couldn't help but think that this was absolutely unprecedented in that scenario. Yes, the flat held several- if not hundreds of- beautiful memories, but as a married woman, Hermione had absolutely no excuse to be thinking about any of these. Once again, his eyes traveled down to her engagement-ring-less finger, clad in the gold she had never wanted. He remembered how sad he had been when they had sold the place. It was closer to Hogwarts, but when they had both started working at the ministry in London, it became impractical to live there anymore. Ron had sold the cottage, Hermione had moved out of her parents' house and in with him, and that was that.

"Never mind that drink," Ron said, backing away from Hermione. "I don't think that getting a drink is a very good idea, actually."

Hermione stared at him as he started to back down to lane. After a quick wave in her direction, he pivoted and began walking as fast as he could to the Three Broomsticks. Yes, he was going for a drink, but not with_her_. Losing his control at all around Hermione would only result in a colossal catastrophe. He burst through the door of the pub and went to sit down on a barstool. Looking around, he was painfully reminded of nearly every moment he had ever shared with Hermione there. There were ghosts of them seated at tables, holding hands, kissing, _smiling_- merlin, did that concept seem foreign. Ron remembered thinking- back when he and Hermione had first broken up- that he was in trouble, because without her he wasn't the person that he wanted to be. He certainly smiled less. Hermione was everywhere in his life, and it was impossible to be able to get through two hours- much less two days- without thinking of her. Every time he did something as simple as glance at Harry, he felt a sharp jab in his stomach, remembering.

Jealousy. Wasn't that what had gotten them into this mess in the first place? If Ron hadn't been jealous, Hermione never would have broken it off with him, and they'd still be happily dating- probably married by now, too. Of course, there were two ways one could look at jealousy, Ron supposed. Because, yes, it had ruined their relationship. It had haunted his dreams for months on that blasted Horcrux hunt, it had given him a pang in the stomach every time he thought about Krum in sixth year. But, then again, wasn't that who it all came down to? Krum. Because without jealousy, and, indeed, without Krum, Ron never would have fallen in love with Hermione in the first place. Which brought upon the befuddling thought: how could one thing- one person- harm a relationship and help it at the same time? And did the fact that Krum was the reason Ron fell for Hermione in the first place (well, not the reason, but sort of the cause) cancel out all of the other things that he had done to Ron since then?

No. Of course not. Krum had known how distraught Ron was when Hermione had left him. He had known, and he had still married Hermione. Ron wondered if Hermione knew about that letter that he had sent to Viktor Krum a few weeks after Hermione had seen him with Perdita. He wondered if Viktor and Hermione had laughed about it when they had started dating. He wondered if the letter was the reason that they had gotten back together in the first place. Perhaps Ron's plea to Viktor to find Hermione, to help her, to keep her safe, and to keep Ron updated had been what let Viktor know in the first place that Hermione was his for the taking. Ron did not regret sending that letter. What he did resent was Hermione's willingness to let Viktor sweep her away.

They could have been so happy.

As Madam Rosmerta handed Ron his alcohol, the man considered the barmaid. He had found her extremely attractive when he was younger. But as the years had gone on, he had found himself completely growing out of any fantasy he had harbored involving Madam Rosmerta. His dreams at night had become totally filled with Hermione, as strange as that was. Sometimes, when he was lying in his bunk during the hunt, he would curse himself into oblivion for falling for Hermione Granger, because there was absolutely no escaping her in the situation that they had all gotten themselves into. Ron had wondered, many a time, both during the Horcrux hunt and after, how bad it would have been if he had just grabbed Hermione and kissed her randomly one night. Would it have made their lives easier or harder? Harder, probably. It was awkward enough that you slept in the same tiny, enclosed space as your crush, but doing so with a brand new girlfriend was just weird.

He was suddenly unsure of what train of thought he had been following before. He was suddenly unsure of where he was, even, which was odd, because he hadn't taken a sip of his firewhiskey yet. Retracing his steps, Ron began to go over his prior thoughts. And that was when he ended back up on the letter. Had Hermione seen the letter? Did it change anything for the worse? How had the letter affected what was now his reality? The immense need to find out swept over Ron, and without even thinking about it he stood up and got off of his barstool. Anger, passion, and frustration were his only fuel as he stomped down the street and back towards Hermione's flat. He was going to ask Mrs. Krum exactly what had happened that had gotten her together with Viktor. He was going to find out if she had seen that silly little letter of his and how it had changed anything. He was going to get closure from her. Warning and cautionary signs flashed through his head as he tromped down the street, but the sensible side of his mind had been hijacked and replaced by emotion. This brought him all the way up to Hermione's little cottage- his old home- and right up to the bright red door. He raised his fist to angrily knock.

And that was when he heard it. The crying. Wails were ringing through his ears, Hermione's wails, the ones that he knew so well because he had heard them many times. He wondered what had possessed her to cry like this. Briefly, his mind flashed to her secret, the one she had told Viktor the other night at the restaurant. Did these tears have anything to do with that? But as Hermione's sniffling increased in volume, Ron's worry increased as well. Hearing Hermione cry made him feel panicked (as many mushy, emotional things did). He simply wasn't equipped to handle it, and yet he usually managed to do so anyway, driven completely by his desire to make everything better.

"Hermione?" Ron called out. "You alright in there?" Nothing changed, except the crying got louder. Now he was beginning to be seriously concerned for her safety. People just didn't cry like this for no good reason! So he did the only thing he could think of. His hand found the knob of the door, and he marched right into the cottage. Hermione was quickly located (his eyes always seemed to be drawn to her, so it was never difficult) on the couch, and he hurried over to her. She didn't at all seem to be surprised to see him, nor was she surprised when he placed his hand on her back and rubbed it in consoling circles. Nonetheless, she looked up at him with red eyes and asked,

"What are you doing here?"

"We're friends, aren't we?" Ron said after a taking a few seconds to compose a lie in his head. "You needed me, and I came, because we are friends." At that moment, what did it matter, really, that they were exes? Before they had dated, they had been very good friends, and friends were always there for each other. Whenever Ron had needed someone to talk to, he had turned to Hermione. Assuming that she wasn't in the library, that is. And if Ron had ever needed anyone to bicker with, Hermione had been there for that, too- ready to take teenage angst head on. "Now tell me what's wrong, will you?"

There was no point in saying that nothing was wrong, no point in covering it up. Hermione knew that.

"It's my marriage," she said hesitantly.

"What do you mean?" Ron asked, frowning.

"It's sort of... falling apart."

"Oh," Ron said, because he wasn't sure how else to express his feelings. _Oh_ seemed like quite a good word, actually. What else do you say when you have just found out that your ex girlfriend who you haven't seen in two years but who you are still in love with suddenly tells you that her marriage to her husband (who has been your romantic rival since you were fourteen) is falling apart and you are trying to be her friend but can't because all you really want to do is sing a Celestina Warbeck song because that is just how happy you are? Yeah, _oh _is pretty good in that instance. After taking a few moments to compose himself, making soothing noises to Hermione, and thinking deeply about what she said, Ron decided to sum up everything he really needed to know into one question. "Are you happy?"

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, turning large eyes on him.

"Are you happy? With Viktor, I mean."

Slowly, Hermione shook her head.

"Not at all."

Ron could have produced the most epic patronus ever at that point. Fifteen minutes later, he walked out of Hermione's cottage with an enthusiastic spring to his step, the first spring that he'd had in quite a while. He was armed with a completely new set of reasons why Hermione's marriage to Viktor just wasn't working out, all from Hermione herself. It was so tragic, in fact, Ron wondered why Hermione hadn't split from Krum before. Oh, damn it all, forget it all,_ screw it all_. Whatever he had said about only wanting friendship... well, that was bull. Hermione's marriage was over, and he was going to make her fall right back in love with him.

_Look out, Viktor Krum. You've got some major competition. Your loss, you talentless little prune._


	7. Chapter 7

"And then I just _burst_ into tears, because I couldn't believe he had remembered the ring thing, and it made me feel loved and important again, something I hadn't felt in a long time. I mean, it was absolutely _shocking_. I think I mentioned it once in a conversation, but he _remembered_ and he's been carrying that memory with him ever since. I mean, Viktor, it's been two years and-"

"Vat exactly are you getting at, here?" Viktor interrupted, not caring at the way Hermione's demeanor became much more bristly after he had done so.

"Our marriage is over," Hermione said matter-of-factly, crossing her arms over her chest as she looked down at him. Her "husband" was seated at his desk, comfortable leather chair tilted back, feet on the expensive material that made the table. He looked up at Hermione over _Quidditch Yesterday_ and, whilst she couldn't see his mouth, she knew how amused he was from the twinkle in his eye. Ten seconds later, her suspicions were confirmed when he spoke.

"Vat exactly do you mean by that, Herm-own-ninny? Are my services no longer required?"

"Of course I need you," Hermione said, trying to keep her voice patient. "I just need you to act like we're having huge relationship issues."

"And vy is that?"

"I may have told Ron that you're a work-o-holic who thinks that he can buy me things instead of spending time with me. And I may have hinted at some affairs with the Bulgarian Veela mascots, as well."

"Nice touch," Viktor allowed, putting the magazine down and surveying Hermione with wise eyes. "but doesn't that defeat the purpose of vat ve're trying to do here? Revenge vas the idea, vasn't it?"

"It was," Hermione admitted, "but plans have sort of changed." When all that happened was Viktor looked at Hermione still more inquisitively, Hermione plowed on. "I think he still loves me. I mean, I've been thinking that since he said the thing about my last name, but now... well, after everything that happened yesterday, I'm even more sure."

"He's engaged," Viktor said tentatively.

"Oh, yes, but engaged isn't married! And since I've told him that you and I are making our way steadily to divorce, he'll have the courage to break up with Lavender and he'll be able to come after me!"

"That sounds lovely," Viktor said, picking his magazine up again. He frowned in the middle of turning a page. "You know vat I have vondered?"

"What?"

"Vell, you always made it seem like they were so... incompastable."

"I think you mean incompatible."

"Right, yes, my apologies. It's just... how can two people who never really got along that much the first time they dated somehow head straight towards marriage in just two years? It doesn't make any sense."

"I don't know, it's Lavender," Hermione replied in a disgusted tone. "She can do anything."

While Hermione dismissed the topic immediately, Viktor continued to mull it over in his spare time, determined that there must be an answer. But after a whole week of coming up with absolutely nothing, he decided that it was time to take greater action. One day, when he and Hermione were having tea at a shop near the ministry (in the hopes that Ron would walk out, see them, and become jealous), he carefully and tactfully brought up an idea.

"I vant to get to know Veasley a little better."

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, panic already beginning to consume her just at the idea of Ron and Viktor spending time together.

"I mean, if ve're going to break up this engagement, I need to know Veasley a little better, and you need to have some girl time vith Miss Brown so that you can possibly figure out just how solid their engagement is."

"No. No way," Hermione said, but Viktor rolled his eyes.

"You know ve must."

"But I don't want to!"

"Too damn bad, Herm-own-ninny."

"Viktor!"

"Look, Miss Brown is pregnant, and you said ve vere trying to..."

But suddenly he stopped short. Hermione looked at him with wide eyes.

"Oh no," she said. Because, to be honest, she had completely forgotten about this part of the situation. Moving her hand up to her mouth, Hermione met Viktor's eyes across the table, her expression horrified. "What were we thinking?" she whispered. "We can't break this engagement up! We'd be separating a family!"

"This is getting much too complicated," Viktor said, massaging his head with his hand. "Not to mention your little secret."

"Sssshhh!" Hermione said, glancing around the shop as though someone might have heard Krum suggest that she wasn't quite as innocent as she seemed. "Ron doesn't know about that, and I wouldn't care to enlighten him."

"He has to find out sometime," Krum reminded her, "so, really, you'd better start preparing yourself."

Hermione sat there with an absolutely terrified look on her face before shaking her head as though to rid it of water.

"No. I can't think about that. Not now. I'm not ready." Looking quite flustered, she checked her watch, then stood up. "I have to go," she said, stooping to kiss Viktor on the cheek. "Wedding planning."

"Right," Viktor said, grinning at her as she exited the shop, "And happy Valentine's day!"

She smiled back at him before pushing the door open, secretly wishing that the words that had left Viktor's lips had actually been on Ron's. As she walked into Ginny's house, she noted the irony that she had just left her fake husband to spend more time with her ex fiancée on Valentine's day.

"Hi, Hermione," Ginny said excitedly, "we're going over bands! Come sit down."

Ginny was sitting on the floor amidst stacks and stacks of large, clear, square shaped cards.

"What are those?" Hermione asked, sinking down onto the couch next to Ron. It was he who answered, once again in a tone of voice that purely indicated that he was caught unaware by the idea that someone- anyone- wouldn't know that.

"The image of the band will appear on the card and music will float out of little speakers on the sides."

Hermione gawked down at the cards.

"Do you know how small these are?" she demanded.

"Yes, Hermione," Ginny and Ron answered patiently.

Ginny waved her wand over the card, and instantly it began playing music. As the group listened to the bands, giving out their opinions, Hermione realized that she was sitting so close to Ron she was able to sniff him. Surreptitiously, she did so, and she was surprised at how good and familiar he smelled. The scent was home, and Hermione completely lost herself in it, forgetting about everything else in the world.

"Which one was your favorite, Hermione?" came Ginny's sudden voice, and Hermione's eyes popped open.

"Um... yeah, I liked the same one Ron did."

"Really?" Ron said, looking thrilled. "Wow, that's so cool!"

"Outvoted... again," Ginny said lightly. She stood up. "I'm going to get something to eat. You want anything?"

"A pumpkin juice would be great," Hermione said.

"Same," Ron agreed.

They sat there for a few seconds. Hermione wrung her hands. Ron whistled.

"So..." he said, "Tonight."

"Tonight what?"

"What are you doing?"

Hermione shrugged.

"Oh, nothing."

"_Nothing_?" Ron said, shocked. "It's your anniversary!"

Hermione's nonchalant expression faded.

"Crap," she muttered. "Totally forgot."

"What was that?" Ron frowned.

"Um, well, Viktor's busy," she said. "I think he forgot that it was our anniversary."

"Oh no," Ron said.

Was it Hermione, or was he smiling just a little bit?

"What's the grin for?"

The smile vanished.

"Sorry. Sorry, I had no business to be smiling."

"No, you didn't," Hermione said sternly. Then, when he continued to look guilty, "It's fine, Ron."

"It's just not fair!" Ron burst out suddenly. "I'd never do that to you, Hermione! I may not have ever been the most romantic guy on Valentine's day, but at least I was always there for you." Hermione gaped at Ron, her eyes wide. Out of all the things Ron could have said, this was the last thing she had thought he would say. And just when she thought he couldn't surprise her further, he managed to. "Hermione, you are beautiful and smart and sweet, and maybe it's true that I don't deserve you. But neither does he, alright? And he shouldn't be allowed to just ditch you on your anniversary. You shouldn't be alone on Valentine's day."

"There's nothing I can do about it now," Hermione said hoarsely. Ron fell silent. Ginny came back in the room, and she instantly noticed the change in atmosphere, but didn't say anything. It wasn't until Hermione stood up to leave that she even acknowledged the conversation again. She pretended to be fastening the zip on her coat as she leaned down and murmured in Ron's ear -

"You were always, _always_ romantic on Valentine's day. Even when you completely failed at whatever you had initially been trying to do, the fact that you tried and cared just for me made everything you did so sexy. And it's me that was never good enough for you."

She left the room, leaving Ron staring after her and wondering what thing could have messed two people in love up so damn badly.

***

Lying on her couch eating Honeydukes chocolates that she had bought for herself was not exactly the way Hermione had planned on spending Valentine's day. Or rather, it was what she had planned, but definitely not what she wanted. The past two years had been full of pity parties on this day of the year, and Hermione had developed quite a pattern. She watched two romantic movies that made her cry and two romantic movies that made her laugh. She got what she needed from the dramas and then was able to feel better while she watched the comedies. It was a brilliant idea, really, because she had an excuse to have a good cry. Then again, the misery of the movie only added onto her own sadness.

How could a person go from engaged to be married one year and alone on Valentine's day for the next three? Not that men hadn't tried, of course. Apparently, even without Ron around some guys still found her attractive enough to ask out on a date. She wasn't asked out nearly as much as Ginny, but she supposed that there would always be guys who were attracted to bushy haired bookworms. Still, she'd been surprised each time to hear someone ask her out. Ron had been the only person she'd ever cared about wanting to date her, and with everyone else on earth all she did was compare them to him. They'd say (in either sweetly nervous voices or obnoxiously confident ones) some variation of "Hermione, would you like to grab dinner sometime?" and she'd always think to herself "Well, you're a little cute. And you're nice to work with. But your eyes aren't nearly as gorgeous as Ron's are. And your hair doesn't look as soft. And, let's fact it, you'll never burp up slugs for me or face your worst fears for me or let me hug you as we watch a Hippogriff get beheaded. And you'll never stare at me like Ron did during the Yule Ball, or stick up for me against Snape, or make an adorable little face as I beat you during defense classes. And you'll never make me so jealous that it hurts or blush as you put your hands on my waist for the first time or scream for me while I'm being tortured or kiss me furiously in the heat of the final battle during the second wizarding war. And, let's face it, you'll never be any of my firsts- there are none left except husband, and I don't think I want to go there with you. So, honestly, what good are you to me?"

Of course, she always told them that it was something different, something like "I'm only going to be here two years, I can't commit," but the honest truth was that each and ever guy had just one major flaw that decided the whole answer in one little millisecond:

He wasn't Ron.

It was a terrible standard to judge by, really, because there was nothing any person would be able to do about it. No one would ever go though half the things she'd gone through with Ron. Ron had been there with her for everything- they understood each other. They had the same emotional scars, and no one else in the world ever would be able to boast that. As time went on, it had become even more apparent that Ron would be the only man Hermione would ever be able to be with. If she was herself with anyone else, it wouldn't possibly work. Right? The other person would never know her or love her like Ron had. Not that Hermione had ever tried. But she knew, she just knew, that it wouldn't work with anyone else. There had always been a romantic part of Hermione (the part that refused to get a fake engagement ring for her 'marriage' to Viktor was in that part of her) that thought that two people were destined to be with each other for the rest of their lives. And in her mind, Ron had always been that person for her. The person that had been designed to spend eternity with her- this life and the afterlife. The idea of spending either with anyone else was- admittedly- repulsive, something so incomprehensible Hermione simply chose not to think about it. The idea that Ron would spend this life and the next one with Lavender made her want to barf.

A knock at the door startled Hermione out of her stupor, and she frowned, wondering who would call upon her so late at night. A glance down at her outfit told her that her jeans and camisole were not exactly fit for company. Thinking to herself that it was probably her mum (she'd usually consider Ginny, too, but right now she had a feeling that tonight Ginny was doing something that not even a totally depressed friend could take her away from), Hermione got off the couch and stepped forward to open the door. As soon as she did so, her mouth popped open a little bit.

"_You're _not my mum!"

"No, I'm not," Ron said, his nervous expression becoming even more so as he took in her appearance and the look on her face.

"What are you doing here?"

"Sorry, I won't stay, mum just sent me with some food because she thought it might cheer you up. You know, because your husband ditched you."

He turned red at his last sentence and how rude it was, but Hermione wasn't paying attention to that. From Ron's nervous expression, the redness that had already been in his cheeks when he came, and the way he wouldn't meet her eyes, Hermione deduced (rather correctly) that Ron had gone to his mother, asked her to make the food, then been forced to go to give the food to Hermione. Knowing this, and knowing how sweet it was made her immensely guilty for her previous exclamation. The look on Ron's face was desperately hurt- she hadn't quite realized how vulnerable he had been feeling in that moment, and shame became a pit in her stomach as Ron reached in to hand her the basket.

"Thanks," Hermione muttered, her eyes on the basket. Slowly, she closed the door, and her eyes trained on Ron until it finally shut. He stood there for a few minutes, trying to comprehend what had just happened, when suddenly the door opened again. "You're still here?"

"Er- yeah," Ron said, after letting out a startled yelp (he'd been so lost in thought she had scared him.)

"Oh," Hermione said.

"I think I'll just be going now," Ron said, and he turned around and began walking away into the cold night.

"Why don't you come in?" Hermione called after him, and Ron nearly skidded to a stop.

"What?" he asked with the air of a dog sniffing the air hopefully for spring. Hermione gestured to the basket of food.

"I certainly can't eat all this by myself."

"Bet you could," Ron said, in spite of himself. There it was again. The whole using-humor-as-a-defense mechanism thing. Speaking of... "Do you have any seasons of that TV show we used to watch together? The one with the guy who kept on using humor during awkward situations because he didn't know any other way to conduct himself?"

"Yes!" Hermione said, brightening.

"Can we watch it?"

"Of course," Hermione said. "Come on in."

Ron walked into the house, taking in, once again, the familiar scent that he loved. He sat down on the couch once Hermione had done so at the exact opposite end of where she was. The only way they could have been further apart was if he was on the floor. After he had settled himself in, he turned to see Hermione looking at him oddly.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing," she said, shaking her head. "It's just that your gentleman like morals never fail to astound me."

The beautiful thing was that he didn't detect one hint of sarcasm in her voice. He kept his eyes on her as she flicked her wand and the DVD floated into the player. As the show turned on, her turned his gaze to the TV, but he could still smell her perfume (how was she wearing perfume? She'd been home alone all night! Was it residue, or did she just naturally smell that good?) It turned out that- while_ Friends _was a hilarious and marvelous show, and Ron and Hermione stayed up well into the morning watching- it perhaps wasn't the right thing for them to watch together. The whole breakup between two of the main characters was just too awkward for either to bear, and yet neither of them could seem to tear their eyes away from the TV. It was a little like their own story, the whole _break_ thing, and it made Ron feel awful because he absolutely agreed with the woman that the man had no business sleeping with another woman after she had told him that they were going on a break. By the end of the season, he was on the verge of turning to Hermione and apologizing to her for being the worlds' biggest prat. Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on how you looked at it) he never got around to it, as the second the season finale ended, Hermione popped the first disk for season four in. They watched all the way to the gripping season four finale, when the man said the wrong name at the alter. And that was when Ron got the idea.

What if- just what if- they actually put together a wedding? Then, he and Lavender would head to the alter, and Hermione would be beside herself in despair. But then, Ron would be up there, facing Lavender in a cheap white dress, and suddenly he'd say,

_"I Ron, take thee Hermione."_

And Hermione would know that he still loved her, but he wouldn't actually have to tell her! He'd be inadvertently breaking up her marriage, instead of just outright saying 'leave your husband and come snog me'. He glanced to his right, where Hermione was looking at him expectantly. Suddenly feeling the immense need to find out what happened next, Ron said,

"Do you have the next season?"

She nodded and waved her wand to put it in. Finally, after a few episodes, Hermione stood up and stretched.

"I have never in my life watched so much of that show."

"I'm exhausted," Ron said. He glanced at the clock and noticed the time. "Um, _wow_."

"Lavender will be worried," Hermione said. The fact that Ron was with her on Valentine's day and not with his fiancée had occurred to her while she was watching the show, and try as she might to figure out what exactly was going on there, Hermione hadn't been able to. "Why weren't you with her tonight?"

"We had a fight, actually," Ron said, the answer ready. He had already known Hermione was going to ask him that.

"Oh, alright then," Hermione said, and she walked over to the kitchen. Instantly, she flicked her wand at the coffee maker and it gurgled to life. As it worked she went to the cabinet and pulled out two mugs, she eyes squinting in the sunlight that had just started spilling through the windows. A wave of her wand levitated the coffee over to the cups and another flick poured it. With a final two swishes, Hermione placed the pot back on the counter and magicked a cup over to Ron.

"Thanks," he said appreciatively, taking a deep sip. "It's really surprising how much just watching TV for about a billion hours can take out of you."

"I completely agree," Hermione nodded, chuckling.

"Remember the tea cups in third year?"

"Oh, yes, only too well."

"I still have the most hilarious dreams about Trelawney's predictions."

"And_ I _still can't believe how bogus they were. I mean, honestly. As much as I hated Umbridge, I'm not sure if Trelawney if should have stayed teaching."

"You know she had to stay. The prophecy..."

"I know," Hermione said quickly. "I know." There was silence for a moment. "God, I haven't talked about the war in so long," Hermione said in a whisper.

"Me either," Ron said quietly.

"I missed that about you," Hermione said boldly, "we weren't like Harry and Ginny... we could talk about everything that happened, whereas they always had a bit more trouble with speaking of it."

"Yeah," Ron agreed. "I missed that, too. I missed a lot. I _still _miss it a lot."

"Me too."

They stared at each other, slowly inching closer. Suddenly, Ron stepped back.

"I have to go."

Hermione looked startled, but thankful.

"It wouldn't be right... not right now."

"Not right now," Ron agreed.

"Probably not ever," Hermione said in a small voice. "What with... well, never mind."

"Hermione... never rule anything about us out."

"No, Ron, I have to because... well, there's this thing, and... yeah."

"Eloquent," Ron said, setting his coffee cup into the sink. He walked over to the door and swung it open. "Bye, Hermione."

"Bye, Ron," she said. As he stepped out of the cottage, suddenly Hermione rushed up to him and tapped him on the shoulder. He whipped around, and before he could do anything she darted forward and kissed him on the cheek.

"What was-?" Ron began, but Hermione interrupted him.

"Thank you."

"And for what?"

"For being a gentleman. It was wonderful."

"Well, you're welcome, then," Ron said, grinning at her.

_Oh my god, I have to close the door or else I am going to begin to snog him senseless, _Hermione thought. Luckily, a distraction arrived in the form of Ginny.

"Ron... why are you in yesterday's clothes?" she asked, coming to a stop in front of her brother. "And are you just leaving? And Hermione- _you're_ in yesterday's clothes too!" she paused, then grinned slowly. "Wow, who's telling the spouses?"


	8. Chapter 8

On an average day, around an hour into the daily process, the exes would begin to have extremely negative feelings towards Ginny, which were just made worse by all of the other anger that had mounted over the past weeks. Three weeks after the wedding planning had commenced, Ron and Hermione were ready to pitch Ginny off of the top of the highest tower at Hogwarts.

"It's just a matter of luring her there," Ron reasoned to a giggling Hermione as the pair of them glowered in the direction of the enthusiastic redhead.

"Somehow, I don't think that would be too good for the reputation of the school," Hermione informed Ron, trying to sound as disapproving as she possibly could. A side glance in her direction was all Ron needed to see that his ex fiancé was struggling to get herself to stop smiling.

"Well, the school produced Voldemort, and that can't have been good for its reputation, either," Ron pointed out, completely unphased by Hermione's words.

"Good point," Hermione agreed. "I'm sure Voldemort is much worse than a brother murdering his own sister because she's going overboard planning a wedding that isn't even her own."

Ron looked at her funnily. "Are you alright? I think you must be hallucinating, or something. You seemed to have forgotten how bad Voldemort was."

"Oh, that can tend to happen."

Although Hermione completely agreed with Ron, she'd never own up to it, and they spent the next few minutes making their cases while Ginny continued to fret over which plates to use for the wedding.

"Look, Hermione, she's absolutely out of control and you know it!"

Helpfully, Ginny chose that moment to moan "I can't pick! They're all so pretty!"

Hermione and Ron glanced at each other, then burst out laughing. It had become so much easier to do so in the presence of each other. Although Hermione had given up all hope on ever being with Ron, given the fact that Lavender was with his child, she loved spending time with him, loved who he could make her be. And Ron was overjoyed by the words Hermione had spoken to him that afternoon a few weeks ago, about how troubled her marriage was. They hadn't talked about it since, but he had memorized every word she'd said to him, a powerful mantra that sent a shiver of vindictive pleasure through his heart. While there was the fact that he wouldn't be her first husband, as long as he was the last one it would be alright with him. He kept on picturing them kidding around about how annoying Ginny was one night, and then just randomly beginning to snog. Ah, snogging. If this wedding planning went on much longer, it was sure to happen. That was one thing- among so many, of course- that Ginny was giving them. They had fallen in love fighting Voldemort. Now, once again, they were united against one force. But this time, that force was Ginny. When Ginny was on a mission, no one was safe.

"So," Ron said casually, once their joking conversation had died away into a comfortable silence. "I was really surprised to get that owl from Viktor."

"Owl?" Hermione said, turning to look at him. O_h god no- please don't let it be what I think it is._ "What did it say?"

"Didn't he tell you?" Ron frowned.

"Well... you know, I'm living in Hogsmeade, and he's in Bulgaria so that he can coach."

Ron made a little tsk noise with his tongue. "And cheat on you with some stupid Veela."

_Oh, Ron, I do love you._ He was sticking up for her! He had already offered to punch Viktor in the nose, and now he was still jealous and defending her. It was sweet and adorable and just so Ron. He had always tried to be her protector, her savior. The one exception was when Ron himself was the one hurting her.

"Exactly," Hermione said. Her voice was quivering, but not for the reason Ron took it to be.

"It'll be alright, Hermione," he said. Unlike the way the words had effected him when Ginny spoke them, Hermione actually seemed somewhat reassured. Her eyes found his and she gave him a faint smile, which he returned. Becoming aware that she was lost in Ron's eyes, Hermione pulled her gaze away and quickly changed the subject back to the letter.

"So what exactly did Viktor say?"

"He asked me and Harry if we wanted to have a guys' day. Suggested you, Lavender and Ginny did so, too, and then we could all meet up at a bar and get drinks that night." Ron scowled as he answered, as if the idea that Krum was being so pleasant to him was absolutely despicable.

"Wh... what did you say?" Hermione asked hesitantly.

"What do you want me to say?"

She adverted her eyes from his unwavering gaze.

"I don't care."

"Don't you?"

This was different, though. He didn't usually fight back. This was bold Ron, confident Ron.

"No. I don't."

"Well then maybe I'll say yes."

Hermione desperately wanted to say something sassy along the lines of, "Alright, you do that," but she couldn't bring herself to say it. The honest truth was that the idea of Viktor and Ron spending quality time together freaked her out just a little bit. Maybe more than a little bit, actually. Her first kiss, her first love and Harry, her brother, all spending the day together? No way.

"Please don't."

"Why don't you want me to? I thought you didn't care," Ron taunted. She still refused to meet his eyes, and Ron's voice softened. "Hermione, if you don't give me a reason to say no I'm just going to say yes."

"I can't give you a reason."

"Well then I can't wait to have a day with Viktor."

"I'm going to kill you."

"Oooh, now I'm scared."

"Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned," Hermione quoted, and that shut Ron right up.

***

"Thanks so much for letting me borrow this, Fleur," Hermione said, eying the book of cooking spells with a look of hopefulness on her face. "Maybe this will be the one!"

"Don't worry about it," Fleur said airily. "When I was a young wife, I couldn't cook, either."

"How did you do it?" Hermione asked, slightly desperately.

"I happen to have the best cook in the world as my mother-in-law."

"Good point," Hermione said, biting her lip.

"But I'm sure Molly would be happy to teach you," Fleur said encouragingly.

"That may be so, but I assume she'd be slightly more hesitant after the last time I entered her kitchen. I know I would be."

"She was much more amused than she let on," Fleur said. "We all were, in fact. I haven't seen anything as romantic as that food fight since Bill proposed."

"It wasn't romantic," Hermione argued, but she wasn't really telling the truth. After she had gone home and thought about it (clutching a pillow to her chest and biting her lip in a state of major embarrassment), Hermione had realized just how perfectly romantic the food fight had been. Especially the end. The end had been amazing. Hermione Granger had never been one to swear, but at that moment she had felt like letting out a stream of explicit words just to prove to the world how euphoric Ron's statement had just made her.

_"NO YOU'RE NOT! YOU CAN'T BE! BECAUSE YOU WERE ALWAYS MEANT TO BE HERMIONE WEASLEY, AND YOU BLOODY KNOW IT!"_

Yes, she did "bloody" know it, and she had known it for quite some time. She'd tripped, stumbled and fumbled her way through her and Ron's relationship. Some of the fumbles had been of the good type. Some trips and stumbles had caused her to land right in Ron's arms. The last one, the final one, the one that was the worst had caused her to fall much too far away from the man she loved, and now her life was perpetual punishment. She'd look at Lavender, and she'd look at Ron, and she'd look at the offspring of Lavender and Ron, and she'd hate it and wish that things were different and simply drown in pools of _what if._

"Are you feeling alright, Hermione?" Fleur asked in a concerned voice. "You look a little pale."

To be honest, Hermione being pale wasn't really a huge deal. But if there was one thing in her whole life that Fleur would never forget, it was the sight of the young woman in front of her after she had been tortured. Fleur would never forget the image of Hermione limp in Ron's arms, blood all pooling up around her throat. And then the face of Ron himself. Fleur wouldn't forget that either. The teenage boy, so in love, so panicked, so frightened and so hysterical. She'd never forget how he looked clutching the woman who would soon become his future desperately in his arms. She'd participated in the tri-wizard tournament, she'd fought in the second Wizarding War, but nothing haunted her dreams as much as that night. The idea that Hermione's life could have been over before it had begun. The thought that even though you'd spent seven years falling for someone, you would never be able to be with them, to even do something so simple as kiss them. And ever since that moment, Fleur (or, at least, the part of her that wasn't trying to save Hermione- the part that lived soley on romance) had promised herself to do anything she could to make sure her brother-in-law ended up with Hermione. She was still making good on that promise, and she would not rest until the two were blissfully married.

"I'm alright," Hermione said, surprised.

"Whenever I see you looking ill I get a little nervous."

"Why?" Hermione questioned.

"When you were tortured-" (here, Hermione winced, but Fleur didn't let it bother herself and simply plowed on with her answer) "-you were so close to death. You were so pale and clammy and- forgive me for mentioning it- I don't think I've seen Ron look so scared since then. I guess, because I tended to you after that incident I'm a little protective of you. I've known you since you were fifteen- ten years, no?- and now you're sort of like another sister to me. I guess that's why I want you and Ron together so badly. Then we'd be related by marriage."

Attempting to process this information, Hermione couldn't help but loathe herself for disliking Fleur when she had first met the Veela.

"That is... wonderful," she said finally. "Thank you so much."

"For what?"

Hermione debated this before answering. Finally she settled on "For caring."

Fleur nodded, and her eyes shifted to the left, landing on the clock.

"Oh no!" she said. "I'm so sorry, I have to go- Bill and I have a dinner party to go to. Would you mind babysitting, Hermione? It was sort of last minute. I was going to call Molly, but since you're here-"

"No, not at all!" Hermione interrupted her.

As if he had been cued in, Bill entered the room, kissed Fleur on the lips, then said,

"Ready, love?"

There was a knock at the door, and Bill swung it open to reveal Ron.

"Hey, I'm here, what did you need me fo...?" he cut off, seeing Hermione. "Er- why's she here?"

There was a ringing silence. Suddenly, Fleur clapped her hands together.

"Oh, I've just had the most marvelous idea!" she said. "Why don't you two babysit together?"

"What's the opposite of marvelous?" Hermione asked before she could stop herself. Fleur threw her a look, and she shrugged apologetically. "Why would we need to do that?" Hermione said, rephrasing.

"Lavender's ," Fleur said, "and Hermione's on her way to motherhood-" Hermione's gaze dropped to the floor, "-we figured you two could use some hands-on experience."

"I actually need to get going," Ron said quickly.

"Yeah, I have an arrangement," Hermione added.

"Oh no, you don't!" Fleur said hastily. "You both need practice, and who better to practice with than each other?"

"I can make a list of at least twelve people off the top of my head. Would you like me to give it in alphabetical order or by preference?" Hermione snapped.

Ron glanced at Hermione, astonished by how rude she was being.

"Look, how bad could it be?" he asked uncertainly.

_"So bad! So very bad!" _Hermione wanted to shout, but she held her tongue.

"You're right, I'm overreacting," she said instead. She turned to Fleur, then graciously thanked her friend for the opportunity. After a few minutes, Bill and Fleur left. Hermione and Ron turned to look at each other.

"Well, that was obviously planned," Ron said awkwardly.

"Yeah," Hermione agreed.

Silence.

"Er- I guess we should check on the kids."

"Right. Yes, we should," Hermione said, and the pair of them headed towards the stairs which (as became apparent a few seconds later) were extremely narrow.

"Ladies first," Ron said cheerily. This gave him a chance to seem gallant and to look at Hermione's arse for at least forty-five seconds. It was a win-win, really. He followed Hermione up the stairs and found Victoire in her room, playing with toddler Dominique. Hermione and Ron stared at them, watching them argue about who got to play with which dolly.

"We can do this, right?" Ron said.

"Right," Hermione said in a breathy voice. "It'll be easy, right?"

"Right."

They stared fixedly at each other for a second, then gave the other a reassuring nod and strolled into the room.

"Hey, guys," Hermione said.

"Aunt Hermione!" Victoire cried, breaking out into a grin. "Hi hi hi!"

Hermione glanced over at Ron, who was bright red. "Sorry, sweetheart, but I'm not actually your-"

"Exactly," Ron cut in. "Aunt Hermione." The aforementioned woman ogled Ron quizzically, but Ron just muttered, "why confuse the poor girl even more?" It had more to do with the fact that it gave Ron pleasant tingles in his stomach to hear his niece refer to Hermione as aunt, but neither Hermione nor Victoire needed to know that. And, of course, it gave Hermione tingles to hear Vicotire call her that as well, but she too kept that quiet.

"So what do you guys want to do?"

Victoire looked between Ron and Hermione, then said, in an excited and bossy tone,

"I wanna watch the muggle mermaid movie! While eating food!"

"Alright," Ron said, and Victoire let out a squeal of excitement and flung herself forward to hug Ron's leg. Ron looked slightly disarmed, but also quite pleased when the little girl said,

"Uncle Ron, you're my most favoritest Uncle!"

"Congratulations, Ron," Hermione said. Her face remained serious, but there was a tell-tale twinkle in her eye. "That's a huge complement." He turned to her and grinned broadly as he reached down and hoisted Victoire up into his arms. "I'm going to go send an owl. Be right back."

She quickly scampered down the stairs and into the bathroom where she pulled a cell phone out and dialed a number.

"Dad? Hello. I'm going to be there a little late. Uh-hu. Yeah. I got roped into babysitting Ron's nieces. Right. She's doing okay then? Tell mum I'm sorry. Thanks. Love you too, dad. Bye."

She put the phone in her purse, took a deep breath, then opened the door and walked to the kitchen. Ron was at the stove, staring at a packet of macaroni and cheese.

"How the-?"

"Ron!"

He turned around to look at her.

"What? This is bloody impossible!"

"BLOODY IMPOSSIBLE!" Victoire sang, and she began skipping around the table.

"Victoire, that is not a nice word," Hermione said to the little girl. Victoire stopped skipping and looked up at Hermione with big eyes.

"Is it a naughty word?"

"Yes, a very naughty word."

"UNCLE RON SAID A NAUGHTY WORD!"

"HERMIONE!"

"Sorry, sorry," Hermione said, trying not to laugh. She walked over to Ron and took the strange cheese packet. "Look, here are the instructions. Victoire, do you know where the pots are?" Victoire didn't know, so Hermione did a quick summoning charm and one sailed out up the cupboard with a bang. Instinctively, Ron ducked.

"That happens a lot," he said, noticing the look of surprise on Hermione's face.

"Oh. Would you mind boiling the water?" Ron stared at her blankly, and Hermione looked exasperated. "Honestly, Ron, have you ever cooked for yourself a day in your life?"

"Do cereal and sandwiches count?"

"No."

"There you go, then."

"Oh, Ron," Hermione sighed, and she reached forward to pull a measuring cup with water and plop the pot onto the stove. She assigned him the most menial of tasks, such as pouring the pasta into the pot and shaking the cheese onto the macaroni. So bad was Ron at cooking, Hermione wouldn't even let him stir the cheese into the pasta. "Ask your mum for cooking lessons," she said as she doled out the cheesy food onto four bowls. "That's what I'm doing."

"Nah," Ron shrugged.

"Oh, that's right, you have Lavender to cook for you."

"Huh? Oh, right."

Hermione looked at him oddly, but then shrugged and said, "You go in there and put the disk in for Dom and Victoire. I'll clean up in here."

She cleaned up quickly and headed into the living room. Ron was crouched on the floor, squinting at a DVD cover with an expression of delight on his face.

"Excellent, she's a fellow ginger!" he exclaimed.

"That doesn't looking anything like a true mermaid," Hermione said sadly, peering down at the DVD cover over Ron's shoulder.

"Yeah, she's way hotter."

"Ron!" Hermione said, outraged.

"Well, look at her top! She's completely Harry's type actually."

"She is a person! Do you talk about all people like that?"

"No, just women."

"RON!"

Ron scrutinized the DVD cover.

"You'd think those muggles would check their facts before making a whole movie, eh?"

"Muggles don't have the right resources," Hermione said, annoyed.

"If you say so," Ron shrugged, popping the disk into the DVD player. Two hours later, the movie finished. Victoire, who had convinced Hermione to sing along with her about thirty seconds into the first song (entitled_I Am a Teenage Mermaid_), was running around the room with Dominique in tow. Ron cleared his throat and said, "That was bogus."

Hermione rolled her eyes, looking amused.

"Oh, shut up, Ron, you loved it."

"Did not!"

"Please. I saw you getting all misty eyed back there."

He looked like he was about to argue, but Hermione gave him a look and he broke off, his expression sheepish.

"Fine. It was amazing. It was a beautiful story," he paused before saying, "IT KICKED ARSE!"

As Hermione rolled around in a fit of hysterical laughter and Ron stared at her looking rather put out, Victoire approached them and asked to see the last scene again. Ron reached for the remote and once again they watched the red-headed mermaid happily snogging her blond haired Prince.

"What're they doing?" Victoire asked.

Hermione and Ron's eyes widened and swiveled towards each other.

"Er- snogging," Ron said, for lack of anything better.

"Oh," Victoire said blankly. Then, "Do you snog?"

Hermione and Ron turned beet red.

"No," Hermione replied. "Snogging is only for people who are very much in love."

"Mummy says that you and Uncle Ron are in love."

There was an awkward silence until Ron desperately shouted,"Bettcha can't catch me!" and ran from the room.

Running away is, in most situations, the easiest solution, if not the best one.


	9. Chapter 9

Lavender Brown had always considered herself to be reasonably patient person. As a muggle/wizard liaison at the Ministry of Magic, she spent the whole day doing what she was best at: socializing. She also used the things she knew about the most. She'd had a muggle father, and Lavender had grown up watching all his TV programs, using all of his electronics, and watching his sports. But a big part of her came from her witch mother, and what she had learned from Hogwarts. She knew so much about both worlds, the job of being a liaison was perfect for her. It was easy- second nature. Sometimes, however (as with all jobs), Lavender's occupation came with trials. Everyday, there was always a person that warranted Lavender to snap at them for doing something or other. It had to be said, though, that she was rather patient, and her rope was much longer than most people's.

Lavender Brown had always considered herself to be a reasonably patient person- until she met Ron Weasley, that is. He was the blindest, most infuriating person she had ever met in her whole life. He had been so in school, and he still was now that he was about to turn twenty five. It seemed to Lavender that nothing at all had changed since he and Hermione had snogged during the final battle. Everyone had breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that everything was about to get a whole lot better with the two of them. Everyone that thought that the final battle was it. The two of them would get married, have babies, and grow old together, just after that one kiss. Oh, how very wrong all of them had been. The naïvely hopeful people should have known that it was never going to be that easy, because Hermione and Ron, the infuriating pair, would never let anything be easy.

"Ron, you have been ranting about this for over an hour," Lavender said, finally snapping. "Just do as I say... don't you trust me?"

"No, not at all," Ron said. There was a pause, until suddenly he moaned, "I don't know what to do!"

"If I strangle you, will that make it all better?" Lavender asked. Ron considered her words for a split second before comprehending them and roaring,

"HEY!"

She smirked.

"Look, Ron, there's nothing I can tell you that I haven't already told you. I think- in your heart of hearts- you know I'm right, and you just don't want to do it."

"How can I?" Ron asked. "It'll be so weird!"

"I, personally, wouldn't mind spending some one-on-one time with Hermione," Lavender shrugged. "It'll give me some good insight on what's going on with her marriage so that we can break it up."

"We aren't breaking her marriage up!" Ron said pointedly. "Haven't I already told you that? I mean, how insensitive are you?"

"Pretty insensitive," Lavender shrugged, and when Ron glared at her she rolled her eyes. "What do you want, Ron? You asked me for help to make Hermione jealous, and now you're saying that you want me for a totally and completely different reason. I'm not really sure what we're doing anymore."

"Me neither," Ron muttered. Then he made his voice louder. "Look, Lavender, her marriage is really rocky. So what we're trying to do is ride the storm out until we know whether or not she and Viktor are definitely breaking up or definitely staying together."

"And what better way to do that then really get in there and figure out exactly what's going on?" Lavender said, a note of triumph in her tone.

"You wouldn't be all alone with her," Ron warned. "Ginny's going to be there too."

"So?" Lavender said. "I don't care, it's not like Ginny thinks this engagement is real."

"What if one of you spills something?"

"Well, as exceptionally perceptive as Hermione thinks she is, she'll be so distracted by jealousy she won't even notice any accidental slip ups," Lavender predicted.

"Doubtful," Ron said.

Leaning over, Lavender grabbed the letter off of the coffee table and handed it to Ron.

"Go respond," she said, "and tell Viktor Krum that you would be happy to spend the day with him, even though he mercilessly stole the woman who was supposed to be your future wife right from the tips of your fingers."

"Will do," Ron said grumpily. Lavender sighed and leaned back against the couch.

"I totally wear the pants in this relationship."

OOO

"He said yes? I asked him not to say yes!_ I told him not to say yes_!"

"Vell, he said yes," Viktor said cheerily, and Hermione moaned and sunk down into her chair.

"This is _horrible_. I don't want to spend the day with Lavender Brown! It's hard enough to spend the day with Ginny these days, what with her strange obsession with the wedding that isn't even her own, but with_Lavender Brown_? I haven't even spoken to her since the last Hogwarts Reunion we had."

"Maybe it's time the two of you become the best of friends," Viktor said, and Hermione turned and threw him such an outraged look he shrunk back. "Or... not."

"Lavender Brown is my worst nightmare," Hermione told him. "She's the only girl that has ever made jealousy totally and completely overtake me, until I am nothing but a studious girl with a schoolgirl crush and a broken heart. And now she's gone and multiplied that by about fifteen, because not only is she dating Ron, she's marrying him! And not only is Ron my stupid crush, he's the man that I used to be engaged to, and he's the..."

But she suddenly stopped talking and turned a bit paler. It didn't matter, Viktor had known what she was about to say.

"No need to spare my feelings," he teased. "I'm not like Ron, I don't get jealous."

She smiled weakly at him.

"Thanks."

"You are velcome, Herm-own-ninny."

Suddenly, a look of panic crossed Hermione's face.

"Oh my god, what am I going to wear?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes!" Hermione said, her eyes wide. "Of course it does, Viktor! What if I wear a shirt and she takes one look at it and realizes that I have inappropriate thoughts about her fiancée?"

"Is that actually possible?"

"I don't know, I didn't stay in divination."

"Oh."

She let out a little groan, then said, "Why oh_ why _didn't I stay in divination?"

"Maybe because it is a rather useless subject?" Viktor suggested.

"I am so stupid!" Hermione moaned, discarding Viktor's comment and bringing her hands to her cheeks.

If there was one thing Viktor couldn't stand, it was Hermione Jean Granger calling herself stupid. Honestly, the nerve of her.

"Look, I know you don't want to hear this, but every thing's going to be fine."

Hermione noted that she had felt much more reassured of this when Ron had spoken the words to her. Maybe something about him calmed her, made her feel better. Ron had been much better at relaxing her throughout the years, in some ways. While Harry was the one that kept a cool head in rough situations, Ron's flipping out had given Hermione something to focus on, a smaller goal to work towards on top of the bigger one. And as they had gotten older, he had been more the one to talk her through things than Harry had. When he'd had lessons with Dumbledore, Ron would talk with her and listen to her worries and fears- at least the ones that she could tell him (what? It wasn't like she was going to say "My greatest fear is having to see you die and then face living without you, because in my mind it is harder to be left on earth than be dead. I mean, it would be hard to see Harry dead, but harder with you. Why? Oh, it can't be because I'm totally and completely in love with you... THAT HINT'S TOO OBVIOUS, ISN'T IT, RON?"). And on the hunt, whenever she had been too scared or when she was frightened because Harry didn't exactly know what he was doing, Ron had (mostly) been there to put his arm around her shoulders. After the war, he had made her his priority, just as she had made him hers. At that time, they had kissed, they had admitted to their feelings to each other, and nothing and no one mattered more than that.

Instead of relaying all this to Viktor, Hermione merely said, "I'm sure it will," and stood up. "Right, well, I'll see you tonight at the bar. Um... break a leg?"

"Yes, good luck to you too, Hermione," Viktor said, watching as she walked out of his office. He turned to look at his secretary, who had been standing next to him the whole time, a bit confused by the conversation. "She has gotten herself into quite a mess, has she not?"

OOO  
>"I have told you a thousand times, Hermione," Ginny hissed under her breath, "that shirt will <em>not<em> let Lavender know that you fantasize about pushing Ron against the door to your house and snogging him senseless!"

"Are you sure?" Hermione said anxiously. "Maybe I should change..."

"Where do you even get this from?" Ginny groaned. "Did someone just go up to you one day and begin feeding you lies on a little spoon?"

"I don't remember," Hermione said, so anxious she didn't pause to actually understand what Ginny had asked her.

"Hermione," Ginny said, gritting her teeth, "I don't think any shirt can make someone know about your innermost thoughts and dreams. Unless, of course, your innermost thoughts and dreams are to be a hooker. Then and only then might there be a little bit of a problem."

"Well," Hermione said slowly, "I've never wanted to be a hooker... so I think we're all good."

"Thank god," Ginny muttered.

"What was that?"

"Nothing," Ginny said, reaching forward to knock on the door. It swung open almost at once. "Hi, Lavender!"

"Hi, Ginny!" Lavender responded, bounding up to Ginny and hugging her as tightly as she could.. "I haven't seen you in such a long time, sis!"

_Oh, it was going to be a long day._

Meanwhile, Harry was also having a difficult time, although not because Ron was afraid that his shirt would tell Viktor that he often fantasized about Hermione pushing him against the door to her house and snogging him senseless.

"I can't believe I agreed to this," Ron was muttering as he paced back and forth on the grass of the Quidditch pitch. It was in the back of Harry's house, and while Harry had tried very hard not to show off how much money he had, Ginny had convinced him that he deserved to splurge a little bit. When he had been teetering on the edge, she had begged him to do it for her, and instantly the idea of doing something that had make Ginny happy made him agree. Really, he was too selfless for his own good. Ron rather thought that Harry Potter had a bunch of huge flaws that were just waiting to bubble over and show themselves off one day when he snapped.

"You didn't, really," Harry shrugged, half smiling.

"Fine... I can't believe I let Lavender talk me into doing this and then went through with it," Ron amended.

"Better," Harry said.

"What if I punch him?" Ron asked, his pacing coming to a halt as he looked desperately at Harry.

"Er- he'll probably punch you back, and that would be bad."

"I can't believe he left her alone on their anniversary," Ron growled.

"What's the big deal... you got a kiss on the cheek out of it, didn't you?"

"He doesn't deserve her!" Ron roared. "Why did she pick him over me?"

"This again?" Harry sighed. "Ron, I'm so, so sorry that she did that to you, but we are unfortunately stuck spending the day with an international Quidditch player, so whatever ill grace you have towards him needs to be set aside just a little bit so that we can at least attempt to enjoy ourselves until we can go to a bar and get very, very drunk."

"I'll consider it."

"Ron," Harry said, sounding exasperated now.

"Fine! Fine, I'll just let him get away with being the worlds' worst husband and stealing the woman I'm in love with! Whoop-dee-doo! I think me and Vicky- I mean _Viktor_- will end up being bosom buddies, actually!"

"Er- positive self talk. That's always good."

Ron frowned.

"Where the hell did you learn a phrase like that?"

"Grammar school?"

"Fair enough."

A sudden ringing of the doorbell that echoed loudly out onto the Quidditch pitch made the two of them look up.

"Ready?" Harry asked.

"No," Ron admitted. "Let's go."

The two sprinted back to the house, then opened the door to find Viktor Krum standing there, smiling nervously.

"Hello, Harry. So nice of you to invite me over."

"No problem," Harry said. "Thanks for hooking us up with the Quidditch tickets for later."

"My pleasure."

Harry gestured Viktor into the house, and the men sat around a table that was set with beer and sandwiches. They ate in silence, Harry and Viktor making small talk, Harry admitting to Viktor after many years that he had been Barny Weasley at the wedding, and that was why he had discouraged Viktor from going after Ginny.

"So, yeah, sorry about that," Harry grinned, while Viktor roared with laughter.

"It's alright," he chuckled. "You ended up married to her, so I don't feel as though I had too much of a loss there. And vere are your sons, by the way? Herm-own-ninny has told me how adorable they are!" Ron cracked his knuckles. Harry knew that he hated hearing Viktor call Hermione that, as it was so far from her name. "Sorry for never replying to that letter, by the vay," Viktor said, now addressing Ron. "I know you were really vorried, but I never got around to it."

"You had two years to get around to it," Ron said shortly.

"I vas busy."

"Busy? Yeah, you were busy. Stealing my fiancée from me, that is."

"Oh, look at the time!" Harry said, leaping out of his chair. "Time to go watch Quidditch!"

Viktor was smiling pleasantly and Ron was glowering at him.

Well, Harry thought to himself, it could be worse. Maybe.

While Ron was enjoying a good Quidditch game, Hermione was enduring a shopping trip with Lavender and Ginny. Seeing as she hated shopping, this made the day even worse in her book, and she was pouting and sulking the whole time. Not only did she loathe trying on dresses (which the two kept on making her do, on account of the fact that she would need one for the wedding that Ginny was planning), she felt jealous at how well Ginny and Lavender were getting on. She wanted to snap her fingers in Lavender's face and say something along the lines of,

"Hello! Ginny was _my_ friend first, so back off before I hurt you."

But, of course, Hermione wasn't a violent person, so she simply suffered in silence and watched the other two witches have a grand old time. At least Hermione was grateful that Ginny was keeping the subject far, far away from Ron. Unfortunately, Lavender had her own ideas. As they walked into the lingerie section (Hermione blushed red- she hadn't been to this part of any store in two years and it almost felt like the first time again, when she'd felt as though she had no right to be there), Lavender picked up a hot pink bra and laughed as if she was remembering something.

"What?" Ginny asked.

"Oh, I have a bra that's basically the same color, and it drives Ron crazy!"

"Ew," Ginny protested, swatting Lavender with one of her bags. "Don't tell me what and what does not drive my brother crazy!"

"Sorry," Lavender giggled. "Oooh, there was this one time when I was wearing this bra and eating chocolate and-"

Here, Hermione excused herself from the conversation, ran to the bathroom, and then massaged her temples for ten whole minutes in an unsuccessful attempt to get those words out of her brain. That was neither the first or the last time Lavender insisted on talking about Ron. She drove Hermione crazy with all of her little anecdotes. Each bra that caught her fancy seemed to have something about it that reminded her of Ron. Hermione ran out of excuses after a while and was forced to try and squelch the anger that was welling up inside of her. Soon, she figured out that if she pretended that she was here shopping for her wedding to Ron she could completely zone out the woman who would actually be marrying him. This turned out to work wonderfully (all she had to do when addressed was smile and nod) until she ended up at the cash register and Ginny and Lavender were looking at her expectantly.

"What?" she said, shaking herself out of her daydream.

"Cough up!" Lavender said.

"For... for what?" Hermione inquired.

"You expect us to pay for all these?" Ginny frowned.

"What?" Hermione asked, and slowly her eyes darted to the bras in Ginny's hands.

"We got these bras for you!" Ginny said, annoyed.

"Remember, Hermione, we were talking about how ugly and old most of your bras are, and then you agreed that if we got you some cute new stuff you'd burn the old ones and stop dressing like a grandmother?" Lavender added helpfully.

"You _were_ paying attention, weren't you, Hermione?" Ginny asked, narrowing her eyes. "There was absolutely_no_ reason why you shouldn't have been."

_I hate you, Ginevra Potter. And I will get you, my pretty._

"Of course!" Hermione said. "Why would I have been blocking out what you were saying? Pffftt. Here," she said hastily, handing Ginny some galleons.

"Yay, bra burning time!" Lavender squealed.

_Oh my god, kill me, _Hermione thought.

The three of them apparated to Hermione's cottage ("it's so adorable!" Lavender said in a squeaky voice) and went to Hermione's delicates drawer. They proceeded to take everything out and attempt to burn them in the backyard, cheering. When this did not work because there was snow on the ground, Lavender just shrugged and said,

"I'll take the ugly ones home with me so that you won't be tempted to wear them."

"Er- refresh my memory. Why did we get me a bunch of underwear?"

"Because you are trying to save your marriage to Viktor," Ginny told her.

"And in order to do that, you need to stop dressing like you are somebody's mum."

"Oh," Hermione said, "really? That's how you save a marriage?"

"Yes," the two of them said together.

"Weird," Hermione said fervently.


	10. Chapter 10

Lavender and Ginny made their way to the fireplace in Hermione's home, where they all flooed to a cute little wizarding cafe in Diagon Alley. After they had plopped themselves into seats and Hermione had halfheartedly answered a bunch of questions on her time in France, the waiter came over and asked what they wanted to drink.

"Alcohol," Hermione said as Lavender let out a high-pitched giggle at something Ginny said. "_Please_."

"Don't forget, Hermione, we're going to the bar later," Ginny reminded her. Reluctantly, Hermione switched her order to lemonade. She didn't like drinking, and she definitely didn't like any alcohol except wine and the occasional fruity drink (read: she'd had one once when they were out of everything else and had drunk half of it), but lately all she wanted to do was tune the world out, and, seeing as she didn't know any spells that made you able to do that, drinking, she thought, might help. She hadn't had the courage to do it yet, but one more high pitched giggle from Lavender...

"How's the game going, by the way?" Ginny asked the waiter as he walked away.

"Cannons are loosing," he said, sounding happy.

"Ron's going to be insufferable," the three ladies groaned at the same time.

The Cannons were indeed losing, and Ron was indeed acting insufferable. He was cursing like a madman, yelling out from the stands, and doing his damnedest to make sure that Viktor wasn't getting a word in edgewise. Viktor's look of complacency never left his face, he just stared out at the game with a little smirk on his face. Ron took this to mean that either Viktor was rooting for the other Quidditch team, or he was being smug because he had gotten Hermione and Ron hadn't. Either way, Ron wanted to pummel him.

So it was a relief, really, when the game ended (a spectacular win- just not for the team Ron was rooting for) and they were able to make their way to an expensive bar of Viktor's choosing. The females were already there, and each got up to greet their significant others. Ginny threw her arms around Harry's neck and breathed into it,"Thank god, I can't stand one more moment of this," Lavender kissed Ron shortly on the lips and said (loudly) "How you doing, hot stuff?" which made him splutter and turn bright red. Hermione and Viktor stood their awkwardly, Hermione not being the type to like public displays of affection.

"Aren't you going to kiss him hello, Hermione?" Lavender asked expectantly.

"Uh, no, that's alright," Hermione said, shaking her head.

"Aw, come on, what's wrong with you guys? One year of marriage and the magic is already gone?" Lavender asked, cocking her head sympathetically.

"Um..." Hermione said. Viktor shook his head.

"No, of course not. Herm-own-ninny just doesn't really like public displays of affection."

"But you guys are so cute!" Lavender said, her tone rising about ten octaves higher on the last word, as though she was talking about a pony or a particularly fluffy puppy dog.

"No, thank you," Viktor said firmly.

"What, are you scared?" Lavender asked. "Look, it's easy!" she said, before stretching a tiny bit on her tip toes and beginning to enthusiastically snog Ron.

"FINE!" Hermione shouted, her breaking point having been met. She turned to Viktor and slammed her lips into his, then proceeded to kiss him vigorously. It wasn't the first time they had kissed, so it wasn't as strange as it might have been, but Hermione still felt like she was kissing her brother. She kept on kissing him, however, until she heard Ginny say,

"Alright, alright! We get it, you're married!"

"Thank you," Hermione said, crossing her arms, while Viktor just stood there looking stunned. "You alright, honey?"

"I don't really know," Viktor said. "Er- beer. Need beer."

"I'll go get you one, love," Hermione said, and she slunk off into the crowd towards the bar.

"That was overkill!" Ron hissed in Lavender's ear. "What are you trying to do?"

"I'm not sure," Lavender said, shrugging. "It's fun, and it felt right, you know?"

"No, not at all," Ron snapped. "And from now on, keep your hands, lips, and other body parts off of me, alright? I'm not sixteen anymore- I want a relationship with some emotion, and that relationship is with Hermione."

"Well, in case you haven't noticed, you can't have her," Lavender pointed out.

"Of course I've noticed! It's you who hasn't!"

"What are you going to do, Ron, if they decide to spend the rest of their lives together? What if they work through all their marital problems and realize that they can make everything work?"

Ron paled. He hadn't actually considered that outcome much.

"Just... just tone it down a bit, alright Lavender?"

"Fine!" Lavender said, and she too disappeared into the crowd. Ron drew in a deep, calming breath before joining the rest of his party.

"It's karaoke night!" Ginny laughed, pointing towards a stage where two people were singing.

"Cool!" Lavender shrieked. Quickly, she vanished into the crowd towards the table and came back a few seconds later. "Hermione, I signed you up."

"What?" Hermione cried, spitting out her sip of wine back into her glass.

"Well, I used to hear you singing in the shower at Hogwarts and you were really good, so I just-"

"You sing in the shower?" Ginny giggled.

"Oh my god, every time," Ron said, rolling his eyes. "Loudly, too."

"You sing in the shower as well," Ginny reminded him, "so you can't tease her about it."

Hermione was still staring at Lavender as though she'd never seen her before.

"Lavender, I can't just go up on stage and sing in front of a bunch of people!"

"Remember when my parents arrived two hours early when we had them over for dinner that one time?" Ron said. "They heard you singing in the shower then... so, really, you've had an audience before."

"You are not helping," Hermione growled.

"Next up," shouted the DJ, "Hermy-one GRANGER!"

"NO!" Hermione yelled. "No thank you!"

But the man didn't hear her, and continued looking around, trying to see if anyone was moving

"Aw, Hermy-one, are you scared or something?" the DJ taunted, and the crowd began booing. Hermione clutched her face with anxiety.

"I have to go up, don't I?" Harry, Ginny, Lavender, Ron, and Viktor nodded. Hermione turned paler and began to look like she would rather like to be knocked out. "Ginny, will you come up with me?"

"That's not happening."

"Harry?"

"I love you Hermione, but there is no way."

"Viktor?"

"Sorry, Herm-own-ninny... I got banned from karaoke here after I sang a too literal rendition of _I'm Too Sexy For My Shirt_."

"Lavender?" Hermione said desperately.

"Sure, if you want to sing a Britney song!"

"No, I was thinking something a bit tamer..." Finally, she turned to her last possible lifeline. "Ron?"

Ron's initial instinct was to say no. There was no bloody way he wanted to get up onto a stage and embarrass himself by singing. But then he stared into her eyes and saw the panic there. He knew how hard this was for Hermione. Putting herself out there to be judged and viewed... it was one of the things she was most afraid of. That was one reason why their relationship had worked- he knew her so well she didn't have to be afraid that he would judge her. Not anymore.

"Of course, Hermione," he said softly, and as he gave her a reassuring smile he saw her expression relax just a little bit.

"Thank you," she whispered. She was shaking as they made their way through the crowd and to the stage.

"Are you Hermy-one Granger?" the DJ asked. The crowd stopped booing. Hermione nodded, looking nauseous. "Great! Is this a duet?" Hermione nodded once more. "Alright, you two hop on stage and I'll pick a song for you."

Ron got onto the stage first, then he held out a hand for Hermione. She took it and he helped her up, but let go very quickly, glancing guiltily in the direction of Viktor. All of this washed away however, as he looked to his right and saw Hermione shaking. _"It's just karaoke, Mione_," he wanted to say, but he didn't. He understood irrational fear perfectly well... for the past two years he'd had no one to kill his spiders for him. Instead, he wordlessly reached out a hand for Hermione's. Looking grateful, she took it, giving him a weak smile. Music began to play, and the two looked towards a screen, where the song name _Don't Go Breaking My Heart _was currently being showcased.

"D..don't go breakin' my heart," Hermione sang, so low it was inaudible.

"I couldn't if I tried."

"Oh, honey-"

"LOUDER!" someone in the crowd shouted. Hermione's volume faltered, then increased a little bit.

Two minutes later she was off the stage- bright red, almost in tears, but secretly proud of herself and definitely pleased to be done with singing.

"Can I have what she's having?" Hermione asked, pointing to Lavender's drink, her voice still shaking a bit. The bartender nodded.

"How'd we do?" Ron asked lightly.

"Great," Ginny said warmly, hugging her brother and then Hermione.

"Yeah, great," Harry said, looking at them admiringly.

"Wow, the-boy-who-lived, impressed by karaoke," Lavender laughed. "Who knew?"

At this, Hermione took the drink the bartender offered her and walked off into the crowd.

"Should someone go after her?" Viktor asked, concerned.

"No, let her alone for a while," Harry said wisely.

A half an hour passed, and Hermione didn't reappear.

"Maybe she's gone home," Lavender suggested. She had been leaning her head on Ron's shoulder the whole night, and, unluckily for him, he found the scent of her shampoo a slightly repulsive. He had never liked coconut.

"I need the bathroom," Ron said, trying to politely remove himself from the situation. No one objected as he left, but instead of turning in that direction he headed for a small balcony that he had seen earlier. As he pushed the door open, he realized that he was not the only one who had gotten that idea. Hermione was there, leaning against the railing, staring out into the starry sky. She made no comment as Ron went to stand next to her, so he figured it was within his rights to stand there. They stood, watching the stars and the muggle airplanes in the sky for about ten minutes before Hermione suddenly said,

"What do you miss most?"

Ron looked startled.

"About what?"

"About me. About... us."

It was a rather bold question to be asking for Hermione, and his suspicions that she was probably a little drunk were confirmed as he looked to her glass saw it mostly empty. He must have been slightly drunk, too, because he actually answered.

"There are three things that I miss the most," he said, "and they're all a tie."

"And they are?"

"First, I miss kissing you," Ron said, his eyes slipping down to her lips. "You convey so much emotion when you kiss someone, and it always made me feel warm inside. I forgot everything when I was kissing you... my mind never wandered, it was just all you, and that was the way I wanted it to be. I always felt whole when I was kissing you, not like when I was a teenager and snogging Lavender. With her it always felt like I was being bad, doing the wrong thing. With you it felt like it was right, like you were my other half and we were meant to be kissing from the start and meant to be kissing for the rest of our lives. I never wanted to pull back, I never wanted to let you go."

There was a long, long pause before Hermione quietly said,

"What's second?"

"Second, the array of freckles across your nose," Ron said, the a small grin beginning to cross his face. He lifted his hand and used his index finger to lightly tap her nose, causing her to smile. "I know exactly how many there are, and I think that they are the most adorable things in the whole world." Hermione shrugged and wrinkled her nose. Ron shook his head. "That's cute, too."

This time, Hermione laughed, although her eyes were a little watery.

"I never knew you had a strange fetish with my nose."

"I wasn't going to tell you until we were married," Ron joked.

"What's number three, then?" Hermione questioned, the tears still in her eyes but not falling down her face. Ron hesitated before answering this last one.

"Remember how you used to have nightmares?"

"I still do," Hermione whispered, her eyes in the direction of the inky black sky and all the stars it housed.

"They were the scariest things," Ron whispered. "You would sob and scream and shout things out, and I would sometimes burst into tears just watching it because I couldn't stand it all. I always felt so relieved when you woke up. But there was this moment, every time after you woke up, that was my favorite part of the day, no matter how awful that sounds. You would still be crying a bit, and upon seeing that I was there you would crawl into my lap and sob into my shoulder. I would stroke your hair and try to comfort you with words or kisses, and when you looked up at me during that time you just had this _look_ on your face."

"Look?" Hermione asked. Ron took a moment, struggling to find the words to communicate exactly what he was trying to say.

"Like... like I was priceless. Like I was the most wonderful, amazing person, the best thing in your life. A look like you needed me more than anything in the world, and you couldn't believe that you had me because I was worth that much to you. You looked at me like I was merlin himself. And every time I doubted myself or felt like all of my brothers were better than me, or felt like I wasn't worth anything... well, when you looked at me like that, I felt special again. I had something that my brothers never had or would have, I had someone who looked at me like I was the handsomest, smartest, funniest, richest, most thoughtful and romantic person on the planet. Someone that needed me. It sounds girly and strange, but that got me through, that look did."

"Wow," Hermione said, letting out the word in a quick exhale. Tears had definitely begun to pour down her cheeks.

"What are yours?" Ron asked after a few moments.

"My what?"

"Your top three."

"Oh," Hermione said. "Well, I suppose mine are quite similar to yours."

"Really?"

"Sure," Hermione said, brushing a tear from the corner of her eye. "I used to love to trace patterns in your freckles. Like at night, when I was trying to sleep, I'd draw on your arm or back and make little shapes. I also did it when we were lying on the couch talking or watching a movie or when I was reading. It's odd, but that relaxed me and contented me and made me happy. I think it had something to do with knowing that I was allowed to do those things- at school I'd never been able to touch you like that. But your arm was my arm, and your back was my back, and your shoulder was my shoulder, and it doesn't make sense but I just loved it."

"If only I'd known that when we were at school," Ron said, trying to use humor as a way for him to not cry. "It would have been excellent during exam times. Number two, then?"

"Your facial expressions," Hermione said without missing a beat. "Oh my god, Ron, you have so many! I mean, you have different facial expressions, and I believe about eight types of smiles, and over the five years we were together- plus the seven we weren't- I memorized all of them and made up names for them. I used to play a game with myself, figuring out which mood you were in by the name of your facial expression. I just loved watching you talk, because your face was- and is- so animated and passionate. Not so much your voice. I think my voice shows emotion more than yours does. With you, it's all in the face."

"How many smiles did you say?" Ron asked.

"Eight," Hermione told him.

"That's funny, you have seven."

"Really?"

"Yeah. What's your number three?"

"The way you were so thoughtful even when you didn't know you were being thoughtful. You always managed to do the right thing in the end, even if you didn't have faith in yourself at all. Your Christmas presents weren't always amazing, but you did the little things. Like you kissed me even when I was in the worst of moods and most people would be afraid of me. And when I fell asleep on the couch you would cover me with a blanket or carry me up to bed. And before we fell asleep you would always say the same thing to me, every night. And every mother's day you would make me breakfast in bed, even though I wasn't a mum. And when I was in the shower you would write notes on the mirror. And you were attentive in comforting me, even though you thought that you weren't equipped to handle the situation, the emotion of it all. You always ended up doing the right thing. And sometimes you didn't even have to be trying to make me smile. Sometimes I would be sitting there reading a book and I would look up and see you looking at me like I was the most gorgeous woman in the world, this softness to your eyes and your smile, and it was a variation of the look you got every time you were about to kiss me."

This all came out very fast, but Ron was used to the way Hermione delivered information by then, and he caught and hung onto every word.

"If you could go back," he said slowly, "would you still break up with me that night?"

"No," she said. "And if you could go back, would you sleep with Perdita?"

"You know I wouldn't."

"I just wanted to hear it."

They were still standing there, staring at each other, when Ginny burst through the door, said, "Oooh, there you are! Time to go," and backed out again. Ron wanted to kill her for interrupting their long moment, but on the other hand he felt quite glad, as he was loosing all of his will power to play the game fairly and not kiss Hermione.

"It's been fun," he said, and he kissed Hermione on the nose before walking slowly to the exit. Her hand quickly found the spot where he had kissed her, and she inwardly sighed contently.

_I love nose kisses. I love my nose for allowing Ron to kiss it. I love Ron for kissing my nose and loving my freckles and writing notes on mirrors and loving me._

_I love Ron._


	11. Chapter 11

There was one thing that Hermione loved more than anything. It was one part of her life that she craved, longed for, and needed. That thing was control. Not the dictator kind of control, like Voldemort had or someone who really wanted to be Minister of Magic. Not power. But the ability to make things go smoothly. And she got that everyday when she went to work. It was within Hermione's control how hard she worked, how quickly she got things done, how she went about doing things. Work was formulaic- to get through it all you needed was common sense and knowledge. In her life, Hermione had no control whatsoever. She couldn't help that Ron had slept with another woman when they were on a break, then gotten engaged to Lavender. She couldn't help that they'd both had too many insecurities to make it work the first time. She couldn't help... well, there were too many things about her love life that she couldn't help. But at work it was glorious. At work she was in control of everything. If she wanted to stay on the job, she'd work her butt off. If she wanted to get sacked... well, she could arrange that, too, although there was no way that was going to happen.

The point is that work was Hermione's escape, a place she could go when everything became too much and all she wanted to do was go back to her third year and punch Malfoy again, just to take her aggravation out on someone. Granted, both Harry and Ron worked there, too, so she was bound to run into one of them on the lifts or in the cafeteria. But that rarely happened, and when it did she usually smiled at them and then pretended like she had somewhere else she needed to be. Harry was usually with Ron, and whenever Hermione was around Ron her heart started beating far too fast and her hands became slightly clammy. It was better to just avoid the situation altogether. That was one thing Ron had never understood- mixing business with pleasure was a bad idea. He'd always come up to her at work fully intent on kissing her thoroughly, and she'd back away because the idea of her office-mates seeing that disgusted her a bit. Now that she thought about it, though, she wouldn't mind Ron just randomly coming up to her one day at work and kissing her. Apparently they had been into PDA. Work had been different, but if she ever got Ron back she'd let him kiss her anytime, anywhere.

She missed his kisses, just as he had said that one slightly drunken night that he missed hers. Everything he had described held true for her, too, and Hermione couldn't help the little ache in her stomach that was always there these days. It had formed the same day that she had left, after Ron had kissed her that last time. As long as Ron wasn't hers to snog, she knew it would always be there, and the thought of spending the rest of her years with that ache frightened her. She wasn't afraid of death- not if she had lived a full life. But if she hadn't, to Hermione it would be preferable that she had never lived at all. To her, no existence was better than a miserable one. That was why she had to believe that things would get better. They had to. She had things that made her happy, but if Ron was hers and not Lavender's it would take the cake.

There was a rapid knocking on the door to Hermione's office, and she looked up.

"Come in."

"Hello," Ginny said, emerging into the room with Al in her arms and James toddling on the floor unsteadily beside her. "I'm so sorry to bother you, but I need a favor."

She looked anxious.

"What is it?" Hermione asked. "Do you need me to watch the kids or something?"

"No, no, the kids don't need watching."

"Then...?"

"It's Aimee."

"Go on," Hermione prodded.

"Well, we've had her dress fitting planned for months in advance, but there was an emergency at work, and now she can't come."

"You want me to fill in for her Healing duties?" Hermione said, still failing to grasp how this involved her. "Ginny, I know they call me the smartest witch of her age and all, but seeing as I've never taken Healing classes I honestly don't think that applies in that area... and, well, there must be someone who's smarter than me, anyways-"

"There isn't," Ginny said, rolling her eyes. Beneath her, James pulled on her jean impatiently. "What do you want, love?"

"Aunt Mione!" James insisted, and Hermione felt a pang in her stomach as she heard Ron's nickname for her. Ginny took James' little hand in hers and together they made their way across the room and to Hermione, where he stopped proceeded to say, "Up!" in a very commanding voice. Hermione reached down and scooped him up.

"Hi there, little guy," she said, kissing the top of his head. "I've missed you."

She was James' godmother, as Ron was his godfather, and she loved Harry and Ginny's first child. And their second child, too, but Hermione didn't know him as well, as he'd been born while she was living in France. James had been... well, honestly he was an accident, which was why he was three years older than his little brother. It hadn't been a bit deal, because Harry and Ginny had already gotten married at a very young age, something that Ron and Hermione had been surprised at. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, however, said that it was a long time coming, and neither was very surprised. When Hermione had asked them why they were letting their little girl get married so early, Mrs. Weasley had said something very simple and yet very complicated.

"They're soul mates."

"Are Ron and I soul mates?" Hermione had wondered aloud.

"No, dear," Mrs. Weasley had said, patting her fondly on the cheek, "you're just meant to be. I suppose you're soul mates in a different way. Just not the way Harry and Ginny are."

"Well... Harry and Ginny are getting married," she had overheard Ron whisper to his father one night. "Should we?"

"No," Mr. Weasley had answered, shaking his head. "I think the two of you need a bit more time to focus on being a couple and not a pair of stupid teenagers with silly little crushes. Harry and Ginny always had a serious air about them. You two, however... it's going to take some getting used to. You need to leap over some hurdles before you make a serious commitment."

"Are you saying we should never get married?" Ron had asked, confused.

"Not at all. Do you love her?" Mr. Weasley had said inquisitively.

"Yeah."

"Can you live without her?"

"No," Ron had said, his tone incredulous.

"Then you should marry her someday. You'll know when the time is right."

"How?"

"I'm not sure, Ron. You just will."

Hermione had crept away from the living room, smiling, and when she had gotten back to her flat she had jumped around screaming for about ten minutes. Ron wanted to marry her. Ron couldn't live without her! It had given her the promise of having a future, a someday. It made her more patient with her boyfriend, it had gotten her through long days. The twenty-five year old Hermione wondered how she would have reacted had she known how her life had really turned out. She probably would have been less enthused about the future. She probably would have focused more on her present with Ron.

"Hey, earth to Hermione!" Ginny was saying, looking annoyed.

"Sorry," Hermione said guiltily.

"Glad to have you back."

"Erm... what were we talking about?"

Ginny sighed. "We were discussing why I needed your help."

"Right... why do you need my help?"

"I need you to go to Aimee's dress fitting," Ginny said very quickly.

"What? Why?" Hermione said, her brows raising.

"Well, you're pretty much her size, and the woman who's making her dress will be able to get a general idea of how well she made the dress. I mean, you two are literally the same height and weight. The only difference is that she has black hair and she's extraordinarily tan and works at the hospital and not the ministry. Otherwise she's just like you, Hermione."

Hermione narrowed her eyes.

"She sounds nothing like me, Ginny."

"Look, you're the same size- that's all that matters for a dress fitting. Please go!"

"Fine," Hermione sighed. "When?"

"During your lunch break. I talked to Aimee's dad, he says he'll forgive you if you're a bit late."

"I hate this family connection. And I don't want to give up my lunch!"

"Oh, come on. You get to try on a pretty white dress. How bad will it be?"

"It actually sounds kind of fun," Hermione admitted. "Maybe I'll invite Luna to go with me."

"Well... it's sort of a small shop, and Ron's already going to be there, so-"

"What?" Hermione shrieked. "Ginny, I don't want Ron to be there while I try on someone else's wedding dress! It's pathetic!"

"Not really," Ginny said, striding forward to take James back. "Ron thinks you're married, remember?"

"Only too well," Hermione muttered, but some of the panic in her stomach eased a bit. "Ginny, I can't do that... it's like setting myself up for heartbreak all over again."

"It will be fine, Hermione," Ginny said as she put her hand on the doorknob. "Don't be such a Drama Queen!"

Hermione had never before been called a Drama Queen, and this shut her right up. She watched Ginny leave her office with wide eyes before sitting herself back into her desk chair and resting her forehead on her desk. To try on a wedding dress had been something she had always wanted to do when she was just about to get married. She hadn't wanted the first wedding dress she ever tried to be someone else's. What if the dress looked bad on her? Ron would see it! Ron would see her in the ugly dress, and he'd probably be relieved that he hadn't gone through with marrying her, because that would be just how ugly she looked. As Lavender walked down the aisle toward him, he'd probably sigh of happiness that the woman he was about to marry was so much sexier than Hermione. No, actually, he wouldn't be thinking of Hermione at all as Lavender walked towards him. Which was pretty much worse.

Or what if the dress was low cut! Hermione didn't want Ron seeing her in one of those low cut, all-revealing wedding dresses. She had always had low opinions of brides who chose wedding dresses like those. Your wedding was not a day where everyone needed to see your cleavage. Hermione had never met Ginny's friend Aimee, and she didn't know what the woman was like. All she knew was that Aimee was a Healer who apparently had a figure quite similar to Hermione's. Well, a friend of Ginny's could go either way. Ginny had some very strong-willed friends who probably would choose just the kind of dress Hermione wouldn't want to try on in front of her ex fiancée. But she also had some perfectly wonderful friends who would pick a beautiful dress, something Hermione would be proud to be seen in.

Oh, what a mess. She could tell Ginny that she wanted to back out of the whole thing, that she certainly didn't want to go through with it. Of course she couldn't do that, though. It would be letting her best friend down. It seemed like she was teetering on the edge of being a good friend and an embarrassed woman. She was a Gryffindor, for the love of all things Merlin! She was supposed to be loyal and brave. She had just never thought that being brave would involve trying on a wedding dress in front of the man that she was in love with but engaged to another woman. You knew you were in murky water when you were afraid of heights and would rather have another ride on the back of a dragon than try on a wedding dress in front of Ron Weasley. It was going to be so awkward! She'd be there with her bushy hair and barely made up face looking absolutely ridiculous in some fancy dress that she probably wouldn't like.

Actually, now that Hermione thought about it, she wasn't sure if it would be worse to be in a dress that she didn't like or a dress that she did like. If she was in a dress that she didn't like, she could at least be disdainful about it to Ron. And, yes, he'd see her in it, and he'd probably laugh a little bit, but she'd have the right to look unattached and uncomfortable. However, if Aimee had picked out a dress that Hermione fell in love with, Hermione would inevitably be imagining that she was readying herself for her own wedding. She would picture herself walking out towards Ron as if she was about to marry him, and she would probably say something extraordinarily stupid. Because, if she was honest with herself, when was the last time she had really felt pretty? Not because Ron was looking at her like she was- he did that every time he saw her, and Hermione had just begun to wonder if maybe that was his face and she was being vain. But when was the last time she had dressed up just to impress someone or to make herself feel good about how she looked? It had to have been before she left Ron. Meaning she hadn't felt beautiful in two years. So who knew what kind of thing she might say in a gorgeous white wedding dress.

Over the next two hours before she was supposed to go, Hermione decided that it would be a far better thing if Aimee had picked out a hideous dress. She wasn't in the mood to look nice. Resolving herself to a hideous or promiscuous wedding dress, Hermione left her desk at one and went down to the atrium, where she found Ron. He was waiting for her there, looking quite nervous, and she couldn't really blame him, as she was feeling nervous herself. There was something strange hanging in the air between them, but Hermione wasn't sure what it was. As she walked towards him, she almost felt a promise in the air. Something was going to happen, and this made her more nervous yet. What if Ron found out her secret? Oh Merlin, what if someone just burst into the shop while she was wearing the wedding dress and screamed out,"HEY, RON, HERMIONE'S HIDING SOMETHING FROM YOU AND IT'S-!"

"Hermione?" Ron said, startling her out of her worst nightmare. He had walked closer to her while she hadn't been paying attention, surprising her.

"Oh! Hello, Ron," Hermione said. "Fancy meeting you here."

"Um... Ginny told me you knew I'd be in the atrium?"

Personally, Hermione had thought that Ron would meet her at the dress shop, but she didn't want to say that. She felt that it would somehow give Ron the upper hand in the game they were playing where they pretended like they were on top of everything and knew everything. Boy, was that untrue.

"Right, yes," Hermione said instead. "So do you have to floo address?"

"Actually," Ron said, frowning, "Ginny didn't give me one. She told me it would be easier to walk."

"It's freezing outside!" Hermione said, surprised.

"Yes, well, Ginny has always loved the cold weather. Apparently she just doesn't consider other people's feelings anymore."

Hermione laughed. "She's such a bridezilla. If she ever divorces Harry and decides to marry him again, I will not condone a big white wedding."

"I think it's even worse this time, what with her excitement about Angelina's pregnancy. We're almost on month nine, you know."

"That's right!" Hermione said as they started to walk out of the atrium. "When's her due date?"

"March eighteenth."

"But that's just seventeen days after your birthday!"

"I know," Ron said, giving her a small smile. "Cool, huh?"

"Are you going to be godfather?" Hermione wanted to know, and Ron shrugged as he maneuvered his step around a patch of ice.

"I don't know," Ron shrugged. "I mean, I know if I had a kid I'd make Harry and Ginny its godparents, and George knows that... and if I had more than one I'd assign them the same people so that they wouldn't have to be separated."

The idea of Ron talking about kids made Hermione's insides shrivel up. Even worse was the idea that he might need godparents. Wasn't Ron immortal? He had to be. She couldn't live in a place where Ron Weasley didn't talk and laugh and breathe. She couldn't remember what she had done before she had known he'd existed. Granted, she'd been eleven when she met him, so it didn't exactly count. But still. Lost in thought, Hermione didn't look at the sidewalk as she walked. Which was why it was rather predictable when she slipped. She let out a little shriek and her arms windmilled in the air a few times before she felt someone solid underneath her. The smell of Ron filled her nostrils, and Hermione realized that he had caught her when she fell.

How ironic.

"Thanks," she said, attempting to get up. She wasn't thinking, however, and she slipped on the same patch of ice as she had done before, falling heavily back into Ron. So there they were, on the sidewalk, with her lying on top of him, just looking at each other.

"Well, this isn't awkward," Ron said aloud, taking humor over everything else he could have said. Paying careful attention to where she was stepping, Hermione stood up unsteadily and Ron followed suit. They didn't speak for the rest of the walk, except for Ron to give her an occasional direction. Finally they ended up in front of a quaint looking bridal boutique. Hermione pushed open the door, looking apprehensive. Ron followed her, wondering how he had gotten himself roped into such a situation.

It was a beautiful shop, really. The walls were off-white and the floors were hardwood. Huge windows adorned the walls, giving the little shop plenty of light. Ron noticed instantly that these set off the highlights in Hermione's hair. He had a feeling that this was not going to help in his attempt to keep his hands off of her.

"Hello!" said a voice, and both Hermione and Ron stopped their glance over of the shop to see a young, blond witch sitting at the front desk. "I'm Sadie... how may I help you?"

"Hullo," Ron said, noting how this woman- girl, really- gave off an immediate impression of bubbly friendliness.

"We're here for Aimee Foster," Hermione told her, and the girl jumped up, clapping her hands together.

"Oh, brilliant!" she said happily. "I understand that you aren't Miss Foster?"

"Yes, I'll be standing in," Hermione said. "But if that won't work-"

"No, it'll be fine," Sadie said, smiling. "Wizarding seamstresses can take much more liberties than muggle ones. We're lucky that way. Tell Ms. Foster that we'll need to see her once more right before the wedding, but other than that we should be set."

"Great," Hermione said, inwardly groaning. Her last scapegoat had just been rendered useless by this young, blond shop hand.

"Well, let's get you into the dress!" Sadie said excitedly. "Oooh, and since I have time I can give you some makeup and jewelry!"

"Please don't," Hermione started, but Sadie waved her hand dismissively.

"I insist! Oh, we're going to have so much fun!" She turned to Ron. "You can help yourself to coffee or tea, alright?"

"Yeah, thanks," Ron said, and he made his way over to a little table that was standing near one of the many windows.

"How old are you, exactly?" Hermione asked as Sadie got out a huge case of makeup.

"I just graduated from Hogwarts last year," Sadie said happily. "The woman who usually runs the shop couldn't come in - she's got dragon pox again, poor dear- so I'm all on my own today."

"Delightful," Hermione said in monotone.

"Ginny's told me all about you," Sadie said, unphased by Hermione's rudeness.

"That's... nice," Hermione replied, wondering exactly how much Sadie knew.

"I'm really sorry about the whole predicament you're in," the young woman sighed as she moved her eye pencil around Hermione's lower lid. "That's why I want to get you all made up, you know. So that you can look amazing for Ron!"

The way this girl talked, it was as if she was trying to convince Hermione that they were best friends and had known each other all their lives. The problem was that Hermione was starting to believe it.

"In order to look amazing, as you put it, I think I'll need about five hair straightening spells," Hermione muttered. Sadie stepped back from Hermione, gaping at her.

"But why? Your hair is so pretty!"

"What?" Hermione said, surprised.

"It's gorgeous!" Sadie reiterated. And, just to say it once more, she stuck her head out the door and called to Ron, "Isn't Hermione's hair beautiful?"

"Er- yeah," Ron called back. "But don't bother telling her, I've been trying to impress the idea on her for years to absolutely no avail."

"Too bad," Sadie said, clucking her tongue regretfully. She walked out of the room for a second, then came back holding a dress.

"Good_ merlin_," Hermione breathed as Sadie pulled it out of the bag. The dress was _breathtaking_. Pure white, little flowers made of beads were spread around the puffy, satiny skirt. A small trail would obviously be behind Hermione when she put it on. The bodice was a corset that lead to a strapless top, also delicately beaded. As Sadie lifted the skirt, Hermione saw layers and layers of petticoats underneath it. Given the fact that it was strapless and Princessy, Hermione never would have chosen the dress for herself. And yet, she loved it. She was eager to step into it, and she didn't even mind when Sadie asked her to put on a pair of high heels so that they could test how that would work.

"I was going to give you a necklace," Sadie said, gesturing to a drawer full as she walked behind Hermione to put her hair in a half ponytail that pulled her hair out of her face, "but it looks like you already have a really pretty one." Hermione glanced down, then immediately flushed. She was wearing the necklace that she wore every day of her life, usually tucked between her robes and hidden by her clothes. It was a reasonably small heart, decorated with diamonds. At two random points on the heart were sapphire stones, Hermione's birthstone and the color of Ron's eyes. He had given it to her on her twenty second birthday, the last one they'd had together and the first one they'd had as a couple engaged to be married. "Here, though," Sadie said, handing Hermione two heart-shaped drop earrings. "Those kind of go."

"Thanks," Hermione whispered.

"Alright, you're done. Ready to show Ron?"

"Do I have to?" Hermione asked desperately.

"You look phenomenal," Sadie insisted. "C'mon, Hermione. We can't measure anything in here, anyways."

"Fine," Hermione sighed, and the two of them proceeded to walk into the room where Ron was sitting. He was facing the window, boredom apparent on his face as he took a sip of his tea. Sadie cleared her throat, and he looked around to see Hermione coming towards him in her white dress. His mouth fell open in shock, and the tea that he had just started to drink fell right back into the paper cup.

"Holy sh-" he started, but he stopped himself and said, "-oot. Holy shoot."

Hermione flushed prettily (Sadie patted herself on the back for not putting blusher on the woman) and gave Ron a weak smile.

"I look stupid, don't I?" she said.

He tried to answer her, but he felt like his throat had completely closed up. It was hard enough to breathe, much less talk.

"Oh, I forgot my measurement tools," Sadie said, turning around and running out of the room. Ron stood up, coming closer to Hermione.

"Holy shoot," he whispered again, and she laughed.

"Why aren't you saying the actual swear?"

"I'm trying to get better with that," Ron said quietly. His eyes raked her face, then he reddened at being caught staring. Trying to advert his gaze, his eyes fell down to settle on her shoulder. Upon seeing it bare, however, he flushed even redder, and Hermione blushed, too.

"That's good," she murmured. "You know.. for... things."

She honestly knew that there was a reason why Ron should stop swearing, but at the moment she couldn't think of it at all. He looked up at her and met her eyes. She stared into the shocking blue, knowing that they were thinking about the same thing. That night, just four days ago, when they had poured their hearts out to each other on the balcony. Hermione remembered what Ron had said to her, one of the things he missed most about being with her.  
><em><br>"I miss kissing you."_

He was inching closer to her, and Hermione could already feel herself fill with nervous butterflies.

"Ron," she said, her eyelids lowering a little bit.

"Mhmm?"

"You can-"

But he knew what she was going to say, and without missing a beat he darted forward and kissed her. A shock went through both of their systems as they kissed, and Ron drew back quickly, surprise on his face. He hadn't touched any part of her, just leaned forward so that he could get her lips. As Hermione gazed at him, looking equally shocked (even though they both had seen it coming), the look in her eyes told him that it was a good shocked, and wonderful shocked, just like his was. Passion rising in his stomach, Ron stepped closer so that their bodies were touching, then placed his hands on Hermione's cheeks and kissed her much harder this time.

So there they were. Snogging. In the middle of a shop, with sunlight pouring in behind them. Hermione in a wedding dress, thanking high heels for existing as she tangled her hands into Ron's hair. It was glorious, really, how fireworks seemed to be exploding somewhere in Hermione's body. She simply lost herself in how Ron felt, how Ron smelled, how Ron tasted, some emotion expanding and exploding in her stomach. Ron was the first to breathlessly pull back, and he stared down at Hermione in amazement. Her expression was exactly the same as she leaned her forehead onto his. They stood there, arms around each other for several seconds, until Hermione took the initiative to say something, a soft smile lighting up her face and making her eyes sparkle as she did so. While she wanted to speak, she didn't exactly know what do say, how to express her feelings after what had just happened. So she said that only real word that her mind would form, something that actually seemed appropriate, because it felt like she was greeting Ron for the first time since she had left two years ago, as if the past two years had actually never happened.

"Hi," she whispered. Ron grinned, his beam lighting up his face.

"Hey," he said back.

Then he kissed her again.


	12. Chapter 12

It was very rare that- at any given time- a married couple would simultaneously shout the exactly same thing when they were in completely different places. Which is why Harry and Ginny Potter were a very special couple indeed. Mr. Potter was in London and Mrs. Potter was in Hogsmeade, but at the exact same time they shouted out the same exact phrase. Granted, the phrase was rather appropriate for the predicament that they were in, so it wasn't surprising when they both yelled,

"YOU DID _WHAT_?"

"We kissed," Ron said, looking a little faint, "and it was wicked!"

"It was amazing!" Hermione gushed in response to Ginny's shocked look. "It was romantic and-"

"She looked so amazing, I couldn't not kiss her," Ron moaned as Harry (who had leaped up from his chair as soon as he'd heard the news) stared down at him.

"It was a beautiful moment," Hermione sighed.

"Do you know how long it has been since I have seen anyone's bare shoulders? Much less Hermione bloody Granger's bare shoulders!"

"When he touched me it was like a million sparks exploded inside of me," Hermione reminisced, taking a sip of wine.

Meanwhile, Ron took a swig of beer as he said, "Hey, I know it's bad, don't look at me like that."

"And I know," Hermione agonized, "it was completely demeritorious! But I wouldn't take it back."

"I'd do it all over again, mate. Merlin, is she a good snog."

"And kissing only served to make me fully comprehend how much I missed him."

"I really bloody missed her."

"I just love him so much, Ginny. _Everything _about him."

"I love her, mate. I mean, can you blame me?"

"No," Harry said slowly. "I get where you're coming from here. But... you do realize that you just snogged a married woman, right?"

"Did I mention her shoulders were bare?" Ron said, but he was already starting to look extraordinarily guilty.

"You're just going to rip him from Lavender like that?" Ginny was asking Hermione.

"Well, it's not like they were very compatible to begin with," she smiled, remembering Viktor's variation of that word- incompastable. "I mean, would that ever have really worked?"

"She's pregnant," Ginny said pointedly.

"You know what you have to do, Ron?" Harry said, pacing. "You have to tell her the truth."

"Come to think of it," Ron said musingly, "I couldn't even get through two months without kissing her. How the hell did I make it six years?"

"Did you hear what I said?" Harry asked, exasperated.

"Not really... what was that?"

"I said," Harry responded, gritting his teeth, "you should just tell Hermione the truth."

Ron looked stricken.

"You can't bloody be serious!"

Ginny, on the other hand, was taking a bit of a different approach. Instead of suggesting the idea as if it was the first time she'd thought about it, she was begging.

"Just tell him, Hermione!" she begged. "You _know _you want to."

"I can't," Hermione said, looking pale.

"But if you do everything will be better!" Ginny pleaded.

"No, no, he'll _kill _me. And he won't love me."

Ron was having the exact mindset that Hermione was.

"She will be so bloody angry," he said, shivering a little bit. "And even if I tell her I was faking the whole Lavender deal, she'll still have Vicky."

"Look, her marriage is already on the rocks anyways," Harry improvised. "Maybe if you tell her you're free, it'll give her the courage to break it off with Krum."

"Hermione," Ginny was saying, "what if I told you that if you told Ron that you and Viktor weren't married, Lavender and her baby and almost every obstacle that is in your way of being with Ron would just go away?"

"Just like that?" Hermione asked.

"Just like that," Ginny assured her.

"I'd never believe you," Hermione replied. "Nothing is ever that simple."

It was with heavy hearts and aching heads that Harry and Ginny left Ron and Hermione. They collected James and Al from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's house, then came home and collapsed onto the couch, their sons between them.

"What a bloody mess," Harry said finally.

"Yeah," Ginny said. "Apparently my ex games were an awful idea."

"Of course they weren't," Harry said soothingly. "They did what they needed to do, but now I wish we could be shot of them."

"Should we just tell them ourselves?" Ginny wondered.

"I don't know," Harry admitted, "didn't you say never to interfere with the ex games?"

"Of course I did," Ginny said desperately, "but does that really apply anymore?"

They sat there in silence, trying and failing to come up with the right answers.

"I think we need to call a family meeting," Ginny said. "Then they can decide for us."

"We're so deep into this I can't actually remember what they know."

"They know Ron's engagement is fake, but they think that Hermione's marriage is real."

"I hate responsibility," Harry sighed.

"Me too," Ginny groaned. "I feel like the fate of Ron and Hermione rests on our shoulders."

"That's not good. At least in school it was all up to them and we couldn't take any blame if they screwed it all up."

"Maybe... maybe we should leave them to themselves," Ginny said tentatively. "Perhaps us meddling won't help anything. And it's not like Viktor and Lavender will actually be hurt by this."

"Ron and Hermione might be," Harry said. "I mean, they think that the other person is using them to cheat. That could really affect their confidences and morals."

"Confidences?" Ginny said. "For better or worse?"

"I don't know," Harry shrugged. "Could go either way, I suppose."

So then they were faced with a question that seemed to barely have an answer. It was a question that people faking relationships had probably been asking for years on end. What makes a person a cheater? Is it the literal act of cheating? Or is it the mentality that you have cheating with someone? The willingness to cheat in the first place. If you love someone- if your feelings are more than simply lust- is it quite as bad? Certainly it will hurt more. But the overall question was- seeing as Ron wasn't really with Lavender and Hermione wasn't actually with Krum- were they cheaters? No one could get hurt (in fact, it would pretty much end happily ever after) so did it matter what they were doing? Neither Harry nor Ginny really knew the answer to that. Was there even a right answer? Maybe it varied for each person. All Harry and Ginny knew was that Hermione and Ron had missed each other so much they were both willing to compromise what they knew was right to be together. But was that romantic, or was it wrong? And what on earth was the male equivalent to mistress? Harry and Ginny now had no idea what to refer to Ron as.

"What's the male equivalent of a mistress?" Harry and Ginny said in unison. Then they laughed. Looking exhausted, Ginny snuggled up to Harry, placing her head on his shoulder. He put his arm around her and placed his head on top of hers.

"I love you," Ginny whispered to Harry. He knew that she was grateful they would never be in the situation that Ron and Hermione were currently in. They were married, they had two children... they were happy. There was little drama in their lives and they had a general air of contentedness to them. Being married, Harry had realized, was what he had always wanted. He had grown up without a family, and now he had two sons and a passionate, beautiful wife with whom he was fervently in love with.

"I love you too, Gin."

OOO

She looked nervous, Ron thought. As she shifted from foot to foot, she looked like she was just about to explode with the sheer nerve of what they were doing. Looking up at him with large brown eyes, Hermione searched his face very carefully, and he knew that she was trying to convince herself that it was right to be there. She was, as Hermione so often did, analyzing the situation and wondering if she wanted to enter it or not.

"You alright, Hermione?" Ron said tentatively, and when a weak smile washed over her face Ron knew that she was glad to hear his voice, if nothing else.

"Fine," she said quietly.

"Mione, if-" Ron started, but after these two words she launched herself at him and kissed him furiously, forcing Ron back into his flat- the same place they'd lived before they broke up. She finally pulled back, beaming, and Ron smiled at her uncertainly. "What the hell was that?"

Hermione laughed.

"Whenever you call me _Mione _it makes my knees weak," she admitted. Ron sat down on the couch, looking pleased.

"You seemed a bit on the fence out there, though."

Hermione frowned and leaned against the back of the couch, where she and Ron had backed up to while they had been snogging.

"I... I didn't make a conscious choice or anything. It's just- well- as soon as I kiss you, all of my inhibitions go out the window. I become a different person almost, and with you it's safe to be both of the people I want to be." She followed this statement with a sigh and avoided Ron's eyes as she muttered, "I expect that's why the whole waiting until marriage thing went straight out the window."

Ron chuckled. It wasn't anything he hadn't heard before, but it was still brilliant to hear it again, and that was why he stood up, took Hermione in his arms and began kissing her again. In time, his lips drifted from her lips to her nose, cheeks and neck, which gave Hermione the opportunity to ask a question he wasn't listening for and therefore didn't register.

"Mmph?"

Luckily, Hermione had gotten quite used to understanding what Ron was saying when he was kissing her.

"I said 'it's your birthday, don't you have plans tonight?'"

He pulled back, stung.

"You think I didn't have the decency to cancel them when you told me you were coming over?"

He knew that the implied meaning of Hermione's sentence was 'shouldn't you be spending it with your fiancée?'

"Of course," Hermione said, nodding playfully. "I never would have expected any less of you Mr. Weasley."

"Besides," Ron said, his expression still a playful hurt that was conveniently masking the real hurt underneath, "we're snogging and _that's _what you're thinking about? Previous engagements?"

He felt that it was the wrong word choice, and apparently Hermione did too, because her eyes flicked down to the floor and stayed there for a few seconds.

"Previous engagements," she echoed in a hoarse voice. "Right."

So, apparently, snogging was a bit more awkward than they had initially thought it might be. Thinking that anything would be better then the awkward silence filling the room, Ron quickly said,

"Anyways, what made you think about that?"

Hermione's eyes drifted from the floor to a point slightly beyond Ron's shoulder. He quickly turned around to see what she was staring at. A blue jumper was hanging over a chair, seemingly innocent, but for some reason both Ron and Hermione were blushing.

"It's Lavender's, isn't it?" Hermione said, still staring unyieldingly at the jumper that was practically the color of Ron's eyes. Ron, upon hearing her words, looked surprised.

"No," he said slowly, "it's not Lavender's."

Hermione jumped away from Ron in shock.

"Oh my god, who else are you cheating on her with?" she exclaimed, looking at him like she didn't know him. It was awful when someone you cared about looked at you like that- especially when they were the person that hands-down knew you better than anyone else in the world. This was why Ron- keen to clear his name again- laughed and brought Hermione to him in a hug. She felt his long nose in her hair as he held her, but in a second it was gone as he led her over to the jumper. She tried to resist, but he was too strong and she was forced to continue towards it, convinced she wouldn't like what she saw. When they reached the jumped, Ron picked it up and showed it to her. There was a flicker of recognition in Hermione's eyes, so the words that followed were completely unnecessary.

"It's yours, Hermione," Ron said softly, and she just looked at him, her eyes full of questions. "The _one _thing you left- I spent days trying to find something, because _that is _how pathetic I am. When I did find it I tried to burn it, but one whiff of it and I knew I couldn't do it."

She took in the blue jumper with red rimmed eyes. Then she laughed quietly.

"I didn't see that coming." Ron turned away, and Hermione frowned. "What?"

"I can't believe you though I was cheating with more than two people," he grumbled. There was a bit of laughter in his tone, as the situation they were in _was_ rather ludicrous.

"Of course I didn't," Hermione said consolingly. "I suppose I knew there was a logical explanation somewhere in the back of my mind." Ron scoffed and Hermione sighed, walking around to face him. "You are my blind spot," she said slowly, as if extra enunciation would make Ron fully understand what she was saying. "I don't know what to do around you, and there are feelings in me that only you can evoke. They call me brilliant, the brightest witch of her age. But you make me stupid and silly and I _love_ that."

"I make you stupid?" Ron said, arching an eyebrow.

"Yes, you do," Hermione said plainly. "When you kiss me I forget everything I know about giant wars and the twelve uses of dragon blood. And I'm good with reading other people, but if I was so good at reading you, don't you think we would have gotten together faster?"

"Maybe," Ron whispered, moving his hand up to brush away a stray piece of hair in Hermione's eyes. "I wish I was better at reading you too, you know. I regret not being the one that started it all."

"You say that because you know how I feel about you," Hermione chuckled. "If you knew how it felt when _I_kissed _you_... let's just say we were in the middle of a war, but the thing that scared me the most was rejection from you. Death probably would have been preferable. At least when you're dead you don't hurt, you don't feel."

Ron tried to imagine what it would be like had he kissed Hermione first and not the other way around. The thought made him just as nervous as it had when he was seventeen.

"I can imagine," he said slowly.

Rejection, as Ron had found out two years ago, was a most painful thing. When Hermione had left him, he had been torn apart, ripped to shreds. He could still remember how it felt. It had only stopped hurting when he had finally kissed Hermione a few days ago. The first time Hermione had left, he had been hurting so much even his mum hadn't known what to do with him.

"_Hi, Ronnie," Mrs. Weasley said happily. "I got a letter from Hermione's mum today asking if you two have a date for the wedding yet. Apparently Hermione hasn't been replying to her letters. Have you been distracting her again? Well, no matter, it's about time you two set a date, anyways. How long has it been since you proposed?"_

_She turned around expectantly, only then noticing the look on Ron's face._

"_What's wrong, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked, now looking concerned. "Did you and Hermione have a fight?"_

_Ron swallowed before answering._

"_You could say that."_

"_Sit," Mrs. Weasley said. She levitated a cup of tea over to Ron, and he clutched the mug but did not drink from it. "Ron, what is it?"_

_Ron took his time answering._

"_She's gone, mum."_

"_Who's gone?" Mrs. Weasley asked, knowing the answer but still hoping that she was mistaken._

"_H... Hermione," Ron said, avoiding his mother's eyes for fear of seeing the look in them._

"_Oh, Ronnie," Mrs. Weasley whispered. "What happened?"_

"_I went to pick her up at her office," Ron said, his voice lifeless. "You know that man who has been working with her for a year? Well, I walked in and-"_

"_She didn't cheat on you, did she?" Mrs. Weasley gasped._

"_Of course not!" Ron snapped. "Hermione would never cheat! That's not who she is."_

_Mrs. Weasley's heart seemed to hurt with the affection she felt for her son. Even though Hermione had left him, Ron was still sticking up for her like nothing had happened._

"_What happened, then?" Mrs. Weasley said softly._

"_He was flirting with her," Ron said. "He has been since the day he got to her bloody office. And every time I see it this outrage fills me up and takes over all my common sense. He... he was touching her hair when I got there, and I could tell Hermione was feeling really uncomfortable, but she didn't seem to be doing anything about it."_

"_So you 'saved' her?" Mrs. Weasley asked._

"_I told him to get his hands off of my fiancée! I said that if the the pictures of us on her desk weren't any indication of the fact that she was taken, the engagement ring on her finger should have been."_

"_And she broke up with you over that?"_

"_I... well, I yelled a lot. And I had my wand out... but, in my defense, he kept on saying things like 'engaged isn't married.'"_

"_I see."_

"_We went back to our place and I could tell she was angry. I told her for the millionth time that she should get him fired and she told me for the millionth time that she couldn't take away someone's job. I accused her of wanting to keep him around just because he was a good flirt and... that was when she sort of flew off the handle. Said that she couldn't keep having the same fight. Said she was done."_

"_Have you been having the same fight?" Mrs. Weasley said quietly._

_Ron hesitated. "Yes. Yes we have. Because I trust her, but I don't trust them, and I still can't believe, mum, that she'd pick me over all of the other men in the world."_

"_Oh, Ron," sighed Mrs. Weasley. "You have to know how much she loves you. You have to know that other men are nothing to her in comparison to you."_

_And that was what set him off. Ron, her baby, was sobbing. She hadn't seen him cry since the early days after the war. Since then, he had either only cried in the presence of Hermione or not at all. The young woman who had just left him made him happier than he was without her, happier then anyone else was able to make him. Unfortunately, with that ability came the ability to make him sadder than anyone else could, too._

"_Mum, I don't know what to do," Ron croaked, his voice and back shaking with sobs. "She was- is-_everything_, and now I won't see her for two years."_

"_Two years?"_

"_She took that internship in France. She says she'll come back and marry me if... if I still want her."_

_Mrs. Weasley brightened considerably._

"_Ron, you still have a future with her! She still loves you! That's_ good _news!"_

"_Mum," Ron said in a strangled voice. "I haven't spent more than two months apart from her since I was eleven. How the hell am I supposed to go two years?"_

"_You'll get through, Ron," Mrs. Weasley promised. "You'll come out of this thoroughly unscathed."_

_A few days later, when Hermione showed up at his house and saw him with Perdita, Ron fell apart all over again. And it became very apparently that he would not get through the whole thing unscathed. He couldn't possibly._

"Ron?" came a voice, and Ron was startled away from his memory by Hermione, staring at him expectantly. "What is it?"

"I..." He hesitated before saying it. "We can't do this, Hermione."

"We can't?" she said, frowning.

"Look, if it weren't for Viktor I would be all for this! But you're married to him, Hermione. You made that choice, and unless you fix it you're going to have to live with it."

"Oh," Hermione said, looking at the ground. "Right."

"We're adults," Ron continued, cupping her chin in his hand and bringing her eyes up to look at his. "We are good, productive, respectful adults. Good people don't have affairs."

"Of course not," Hermione agreed quietly, her eyes brimming with tears.

"Hermione, when you left I was ripped to shreds," Ron whispered. "I can't... I can't do that again. It's not healthy and it's not fair."

"I understand," Hermione said, her voice weak. He stared down and her and she looked up at him. Then, she stood on her tip toes and gave him one long, lingering kiss before whispering something in his ear. "Remember when I told you that I would be a sodding idiot for leaving you if I came back and you were in love with someone else?" Ron nodded wordlessly. "I am a _sodding_ idiot," she reiterated in a whisper. Then she pulled back, taking with her that scent that always made Ron's senses go into overdrive. She walked over to the door, and was busy trying to hold back her tears when Ron called something out, his voice unusually desperate.

"I may have gotten engaged, but you got married, Hermione. Yours is supposed to be final."

Hermione looked at him, her lower lip quivering.

"Yeah," she said. "Well, people do stupid things."

As Ron watched her close the door, he told himself that no truer words had ever been spoken.

"What a bloody awesome birthday."

Ah, sarcasm. 


	13. Chapter 13

She was lying on her back, surrounded by chocolate wrappers. That was the problem with living down the street from Hogsmeade, Hermione had realized. You were able to buy liberal amounts of delicious candy anytime you wanted to. And now, as she gazed at the floor, looking at the plates and wrappers spread around on the carpet, all Hermione could do was hate herself for binge eating and hate herself for getting into that situation in the first place. If she hadn't let her guard down and let Ron kiss her, she would not be facing heartbreak now. If she hadn't tried on that ridiculous dress, hadn't poured her heart out to Ron on that deck, hadn't sung karaoke with him and gotten drunk, he never would have kissed her. And if she had never fallen for him she wouldn't have wanted to kiss him.

****Actually, there were many things that would have had to happen in order for Hermione to not want to kiss Ron. Now that Hermione thought about it, everything seemed to happen for a reason. If there was one thing Harry Potter had taught her, that was it. Besides, her relationship with Ron was absolute proof of that. They were like dominoes, in a way. Every time something happened with them, it seemed that the thing depended on other things to make it the way it was. Closing her eyes, Hermione tried to think of a way to connect all of the dots together.****

If she had been a muggle, she wouldn't have gotten her letter to Hogwarts. If she hadn't gotten her letter to Hogwarts she never would have gotten on the train. If she hadn't gotten on the train she never would have told Ron that he had dirt on his nose and gotten off on rather the wrong foot with him. If they hadn't gotten off on such a bad foot, Hermione probably wouldn't have been quite as annoying to Ron in class, and she hadn't been as annoying in class, Ron wouldn't have called her a nightmare. If that hadn't happened, Hermione never would have run to the bathroom and Harry and Ron wouldn't have had to rescue her from the troll. If they hadn't rescued her from the troll they wouldn't have become friends, and if they weren't friends Hermione wouldn't have been with them when Ron sacrificed himself to the chess piece. He wouldn't have vomited slugs for her, either. And if Ron had done neither of those things in the presence of Hermione, she never would have seen how brave and loyal and funny he was, which would have meant that she never would have started falling for him.****

Okay, she had to stop this. She was thinking about Ron's redeeming qualities now, and that was not in the game plan. But it was strangely addictive... Hermione continued.****

If she hadn't started falling for Ron, she wouldn't have loved the color of Crookshanks' fur, which led to her getting Crookshanks, which led to her having her huge fight with Ron in third year. If they hadn't had that big blow up in third year, Hermione never would have realized exactly how much she cared about Ron. If she hadn't known how much she cared for him, Hermione would have been alright with going to the yule ball alone, instead of saying yes to Viktor Krum. But if she hadn't said yes to Viktor Krum, Ron wouldn't have realized that she was a girl, and he never would have realized that he fancied her. If he had never realized he fancied her, he never would have been jealous when Ginny told him that Hermione kissed Viktor, and he wouldn't have started going out with stupid Lavender Brown. If Ron hadn't begun dating Lavender, Hermione might not have realized that he might return her feelings, and if she hadn't realized that it wouldn't have hurt so much when Ron left. But if it hadn't hurt so much when Ron left, it wouldn't have felt so good when he came back, and that was what made Hermione realize that he was her other half, her missing piece. If she'd hadn't understood that, she never would have had the courage and urgency to kiss Ron during the final battle. But if she'd never kissed him they probably would have been stuck in the friend-zone forever, and they wouldn't have gotten together. If they hadn't gotten together they wouldn't have broken up, and if they hadn't broken up Ron wouldn't be engaged to Lavender, which meant she wouldn't be lying about being married to Viktor Krum. Which brought her right back to the whole thing about getting drunk and wearing wedding dresses and snogging Ron as if her life depended on it. Because if she hadn't snogged Ron as if her life depended on it, he wouldn't have been able to break her heart again. And if her heart wasn't broken, she most definitely would not be lying on the floor right now amidst enough candy wrappers to feed a small army.****

So. There it was. She had just connected all the points of her love life, starting with when she was twelve and going right up to this moment, where she was twenty-five. Groaning to herself, Hermione flipped over onto her stomach and looked over to the cage in which Athena, her owl, was perched.****

**"**Oh my god," she moaned to the owl. "I think_way_too much."****

Unable to restrain herself, Hermione leaned over and grabbed another piece of chocolate, savoring the rich taste in her mouth. For a moment, when Hermione closed her eyes, it was juts her and chocolate- nothing and no one else. She could picture herself steadily eating her way through every chocolate bar in the world, uncaring about everything else in existence. What did it matter if she got fat? Ron would marry Lavender and she would have his baby, and Hermione would be the creepy Aunt that no one ever wanted to visit. She'd have to get a lot of cats, really. Speaking of animals- a hoot from her owl brought Hermione back to the present. Looking around the room, she felt herself begin to feel nauseous just at how dirty it was. Reaching for her wand, Hermione cast a quick banishing spell and watched as her floor instantly cleared up. Slowly, the twenty-five year old heaved herself into a sitting position. She dragged her knees to her chest and stared at the ghosts all around the room, ghosts of a time when being in love with Ron was actually a good thing. Now everything had fallen to... well, shoot, to use Ron's word. Everything had fallen to shoot.****

**"**Oh, what a mess I am," Hermione said to Athena. Not only her emotions, but her appearance. She had a feeling she had just earned herself a couple more pounds with this last eating binge. Not that Hermione cared- it wasn't like anyone would be seeing her topless in the foreseeable future. She hadn't gone on a run in a while. She used to take short runs and long walks in the mornings because she had felt that they woke her up for work. But she'd been too depressed of late, or it had been too cold when she had been willing. In short, she felt icky. Hermione unfurled herself from her position and stood up. A glance outside the window showed her that it was a gray, gloomy day. Bits of rain were spitting from the sky, but it was more of a mist than anything else. Feeling randomly stifled, Hermione lumbered over to the door and threw it open. She breathed in deeply, feeling rain sprinkle on top of her jeans and inside the neckline of her old shirt. Suddenly, she bolted. Slamming the door to her home behind her, Hermione rushed through the gate as fast as her limbs would carry her and began to run. As she ran, she savored the way her hair blew back behind her and her frustrated, angry tears dried very quickly. In time she slowed down, stopping to clutch onto a lamp post and pant.****

**"**Hermione!" said a delighted voice, and Hermione turned around to see Lavender Brown dressed in running shoes, a sports bra and yoga pants. She couldn't help but judge Lavender. Yes, she had the body to wear that outfit, but that didn't mean she had to. And what kind of person went for a planned jog when it was raining? Hermione also couldn't help but feel glad that Ron hadn't seen her with her shirt off in two years. If Lavender was the person he had been shacking up with since then, Hermione didn't stand a chance.****

**"**Lavender!" Hermione cried, a few seconds too late. "Um... imagine meeting you here!"****

**"**Cool, huh?" Lavender said happily. "Ooh, we should run together! Wouldn't that be fun?"****

**"**Yeah," fibbed Hermione, who was still gasping for breath. "Fun!"****

Lavender set off and Hermione couldn't see anything to do except follow her, so she did. Lavender beamed at her and began jabbering about something Hermione had little interest in. She just kept on thinking _Merlin's pants, this time yesterday I was snogging your fiancée_and hoping to god she didn't accidentally say it aloud. As she ran with Lavender, clutching a stitch in her side, she watched the woman chatter away. She looked... bubbly. Like her life was going exactly the way she wanted it to be going. It was the exact opposite of how Hermione looked, and she knew that. Her life seemed to have reached its peak in her early twenties, which was absolutely pathetic.****

When Hermione had been eighteen, she had saved Lavender's life. It had been during the final battle, and Greyback had been about to go after Lavender. Hermione had just had her first kiss with Ron, and when she looked at this girl she still only saw a person who had kept her apart from Ron all last year. But then the thought of a werewolf going after Lavender and killing her became too much. Without considering any other option, Hermione had blasted Greyback out of the way. She had never really gotten along with Lavender that well, but the blond had still been Hermione's roommate for six school years. That automatically made them friends. It was true that Hermione had made some sort of a conscious decision to save Lavender's life. It had been fast, split second, but she'd still done it. This girl that had put her through hell last year... what if Hermione had just left her to her own defenses? It could have been Hermione's payback for watching Lavender date the boy that Hermione had just snogged, not an hour before.****

Of course, she wouldn't do that. She couldn't. And she wondered if Lavender was ever grateful to Hermione for saving her life. She wondered if Lavender even _knew_that Hermione had done it. But did she regret it now? Now, when Lavender had taken what was Hermione's and made it her own? Well, it stung a little. After Lavender's life had been saved by Hermione, the woman had always thought that things would be perfectly okay between the two of them. Now, however, Lavender was going to marry Ron, and she was pregnant with his child!****

Hey. Wait a minute. Lavender was pregnant... so how could she possibly have such a flat stomach? Hermione looked closer, but even if Lavender had been carrying small, it made absolutely no sense for her stomach to honestly be that flat. Lavender looked like a gymnast or a ballerina. She had abs, for the love of merlin. And that did not add up.****

**"**Hey, Lavender," Hermione said, casually, cutting of Lavender's rant about the closing of her favorite lingerie store.****

**"**Yeah, Hermione?" Lavender said, her tone peppy but admittedly annoyed. When Lavender was telling stories, people didn't usually interrupt her.****

**"**How many months pregnant did you say you were?"****

**"**Pregnant? What do you-?" She stopped running and her mouth slid open. "Oh, right!"****

**"**Yeah," Hermione said carefully. "I mean, you said you were pregnant, but your stomach is so flat... I mean, you're running around at an extremely agile speed wearing a sports bra. Plus, I've never seen you get sick or get odd cravings, and while that doesn't happen to ever woman... well, you're not showing any signs, Lavender."****

Lavender stared at Hermione for a few seconds. Then she cast her eyes to the ground.****

**"**You can't tell Ron, okay?"****

**"**Wh-what?" Hermione said, shocked that Lavender was about to tell her a secret.****

**"**I lost the baby," Lavender said simply.****

**"**Oh my god," Hermione whispered.****

**"**It was really early in the pregnancy, and there was a miscarriage. I couldn't bring myself to tell Ron, so he thinks that I'm still pregnant. And you can't tell him!"****

Hermione stared at Lavender with wide eyes for several seconds. Then she did something that surprised the both of them. She walked three steps towards Lavender and gave her a hug.****

**"**I am so, so sorry," Hermione whispered, her voice sounding tense, like she was trying terribly hard not to cry. "I can't... I can't even imagine what that must be like. The emotional pain of it... to have a baby and have everything you want at the tips of your fingers and then just lose it all."****

**"**Oh," Lavender said, still shocked. "Yes, it was terrible."****

Lavender felt awful, because she was being a complete fraud. She'd never been pregnant, she'd never lost a baby, and now she was getting all of this unwarranted comfort. Hermione, Lavender realized, was a good person. And Lavender was a bad one. Had the roles been reversed, and Lavender had thought that Hermione was about to marry her soul mate and had lost his baby, she probably would have been jumping for joy. But Hermione was being genuinely kind and comforting. Oh, yes. Hermione Granger was a very good person.****

**"**If there's anything I can do," Hermione said, pulling back, "anything at all, please let me know."****

**"**Of course," Lavender said. "Thank you so much."****

She now knew who to turn to in the event of an actual real tragedy. She just hoped that- once this was all out in the open- Hermione would still be understanding enough to be a good shoulder to cry on.****

*******

**"**I'm an idiot."****

**"**No you're not."****

**"**I'm so stupid."****

**"**No you're not."****

**"**I'm a dumb arse."****

**"**Don't be so hard on yourself, Ron," sighed Harry for the eighteenth time. "And please don't swear in front of James and Al."****

**"**There is no one on the planet that is a worse person then I am," Ron complained, disregarding Harry's last comment.****

**"**That'sjust not true," Ginny said, rolling her eyes.****

**"**Really?" Ron asked, challenging her. "Lord Voldemort's dead, so who's worse then I am?"****

**"**Honestly, Ron, you're being over dramatic."****

**"**You did the right thing," Harry added.****

**"**No," Ron moaned, "no I didn't. Because if I had been doing the right thing this whole fiasco never would have started up in the first place."****

**"**You can't think about the what-ifs, Ron!" Ginny argued. "It'll drive you mad!"****

**"**I shouldn't have done it so fast," Ron said. "I mean, we'd already started. I should have waited to see how the whole cheating thing went before I passed judgment."****

**"**Ron, you said it yourself! Mature adults take responsibility for their actions, right?"****

**"**Mature adults? Responsibility for actions? Bloody hell, Harry, do you know how long it's been since I've had sex?"****

**"**Um..." Harry said, while Ginny shrieked,****

**"**RON!"****

**"**Oh, they're asleep. And two years! Two years, Harry."****

**"**Good point," Harry said after hesitating, while Ginny opened her mouth in outrage behind his back.****

**"**What?" she shrieked. "You'd compromise your beliefs for sex? You'd ignore what you know is right for _sex_?"****

**"**I know_I_would, yeah," Ron nodded.****

**"**I'd have to agree," added Harry, before paling and going, "but that's only because I love you so much, Gin!"****

**"**Men!" Ginny said furiously. "If I weren't already married I think I'd just give up altogether. I'd become a nun."****

**"**Too late," Harry said cheerfully.****

Ginny opened her mouth to retort, but suddenly the door to Ron's flat burst open to reveal Lavender Brown wearing her jogging clothes. Harry and Ginny both turned to Ron and gave him a look, but he looked just as confused as they did.****

**"**Do you ever knock?" Ron asked, his tone angry. "What if I was doing something personal?"****

Lavender said something that made Ginny make a disgusted noise and hide her head in Harry's shoulder, a default position for hiding her face in times of sadness or disgust.****

**"**What are you doing here?" Rom asked, his tone a little hostile. He hadn't seen her since the bar, and she was not a welcome sight. "And why the hell are you wearing that?"****

**"**Oh, Ron," Lavender said, breathing hard as she closed the door behind her. "I'm so, so sorry! I almost blew the whole thing!"****

**"**What do you mean?" Ginny asked, frowning as she removed her face from Harry's body.****

**"**I was jogging," Lavender said, "and then Hermione was jogging too, and she saw me and she saw my outfit, and she realized I wasn't pregnant!"****

**"**What?" Ron said thunderously.****

**"**I almost forgot that I was supposed to be pregnant in the first place... but she started listing all these symptoms and... oh my god, she's good."****

**"**That's funny," Harry said as he narrowed his eyes. "I never thought that Hermione knew much about pregnancy."****

**"**She was here for one of mine," Ginny reminded him.****

**"**And she knows everything there is to know about everything in the world," Ron supplied, a note of pride in his voice. "Why should pregnancy be any different?"****

**"**Good point," Harry grinned. "I bet she started reading books on it when you proposed, Ron."****

Ron paled a little.****

**"**Let's not jump the gun on that one, mate."****

**"**What gun is there to jump?" Ginny snapped angrily. "It's not like the two of you are even close to being together right now, so what's there to be afraid of?"****

She looked extraordinarily offended, and Ron rather thought that she had taken his comment too personally. Ginny wasn't usually one to overreact, but at that moment she seemed a little furious at him.****

**"**You alright, Ginny?" Harry asked, and Ginny quickly rearranged her features.****

**"**Yes, fine, sorry," she said.****

**"**What was that about?" Ron mouthed to Harry, but Harry just shrugged and mouthed back,****

**"**No clue."****

**"**What happened next, Lavender?" Ginny was asking.****

**"**I told her that I lost the baby,"****

Ginny made a sympathetic face before remembering that it was all a story.****

**"**How did she react to that?"****

**"**Well, she bought it. And then she became the nicest, sweetest person I have ever met. I mean, wow, Ron- if you marry her you will be one lucky sucker."****

**"**Yeah, _that's_happening," Ron said grumpily. "Remember Viktor?"****

**"**I try not to. He's messing up the flow of my awesome plan to get you two back together."****

**"**He's messing up the flow in my plans too," Ron sighed.****

**"**There's a flaw in your cover," Ginny said. "Wouldn't Ron have told Hermione in between snogs?"****

**"**Oh, right, yeah. I covered that. I told her I was too scared to tell Ron and... wait, what?"****

**"**Wait what to what?" Harry inquired, confused.****

**"**What's this about snogging?"****

**"**OH!" Ginny said, looking enthusiastic now. "Ron and Hermione cheated on you!"****

**"**Bad ass," Lavender said, looking impressed.****

**"**Your priorities are _so_messed up," Ron noted.****

**"**True," Lavender grinned, "but you know you love it."****

**"**That's debatable," Ginny muttered.****

**"**What was that?"****

**"**Oh, nothing Lavender!"****

Harry and Ginny left Ron's flat quite gladly roughly fifteen minutes later. Their heads were buzzing with the news that they had just heard. Lavender had almost blown the cover, but she had saved it. The ex games were still on. Neither Harry nor Ginny were quite sure if they were glad about this. Every passing day was more and more proof that Ron and Hermione wanted to be together, and the only thing hindering them was the ex games that Ginny had so stupidly set up. If she had suspected it after they started snogging, she knew it now. Ron and Hermione were not together, and it was absolutely positively all her fault.****

**"**We need to fix this," Ginny said over and over again. "We have got to fix this."****

She and Harry were feeding James and Al lunch when Harry said the words that sparked it all.****

**"**Maybe you should go talk to Aimee about it."****

Ginny looked up at him, surprised.****

**"**That's genius!" she said. "Aimee wants the wedding in Greece... I can make up some bogus about why I can't go and then Ron and Hermione will have to go in my place! Then, I'll tell them that they each have separate rooms, but I'll book them into the same one! They'll know that I'm paying for all of it, so they'll order some champagne to get their revenge on my bad planning. Then, when they're good and drunk, they'll reveal to each other that they've been lying the whole time!"****

**"**Er, Ginny-?" Harry started, but Ginny cut him off.****

**"**No, don't you 'er- Ginny' me!" she said heatedly. "It's perfect! They find out the truth, Ron gets laid-_everyone_is happy!"****

**"**Except Hermione doesn't get drunk," Harry said fairly.****

**"**She did the other evening."****

**"**Remember how much she hated that hangover? I doubt she'd be willing to repeat the experience. Besides, let's not forget about... you know..." Harry didn't want to say what he was talking about, but Ginny knew anyways.****

**"**I'll take care of that," she said. "And we'll scratch the drunk part and go from there." Then she stood up. "I'm going to go contact Aimee, see what we can do about this."****

Ginny left the room and her husband stared after her, looking both amused and exasperated. Ten minutes later, he heard a little shriek and Ginny came running back into the kitchen, her expression nothing short of exhilarated.****

**"**What?" Harry asked, hoping for some news he actually did want to hear. Something like, _Never mind all these shenanigans, Hermione and Ron have gotten back together all on their own, and now we can completely skip over all these schemes and begin planning their wedding! YAY TO ADULTS SOLVING THEIR OWN DAMN PROBLEMS!_****

**"**She said yes!" Ginny screeched in response.****

**"**Huh?"****

**"**Aimee said that she's behind anything I need to do to get Ron and Hermione to Greece. And she also said that she wants to meet them!"****

**"**When?" Harry asked.****

**"**Next Saturday! Oh, and you can come too."****

**"**What are we doing?" Harry asked, a little afraid of how excited Ginny was acting. "And who's going to babysit?"****

**"**Stop being so logical," Ginny complained. "We'll find someone to babysit- why do you think I have so many brothers?"****

**"**Because your mum wanted a girl and would stop at nothing to get one."****

**"**Well, besides that."****

**"**Ginny, what will we be doing?" Harry asked, now frustrated.****

**"**We're going horseback riding!" Ginny crowed. "On a lake!"****

**"**Oh dear merlin," Harry said, looking apprehensive.****

**"**I hope one of them falls in, and then almost drowns, and then the other one is forced to go and save them! Wouldn't that be marvelous?"****

**"**If you say so, love," Harry said, smiling endearingly at Ginny. "Anything you say."


	14. Chapter 14

They were sitting in Hermione's office when Ginny told her. Seated at the chair in front of the desk, the woman felt like she was back in Dumbledore's office, a young child waiting to be punished. Sitting behind someone's desk gave the nagging feeling that you were being scrutinized and evaluated. As she broke the news, Ginny half expect Hermione to jump up and give her a detention. Ginny avoided Hermione's eyes as the news was imparted, glancing guiltily around the spotless office, a room void of any personal touches. When Hermione and Ron had been together, Hermione's desk had been full of pictures of her with Ron or Ron by himself. Now, however, there were just three pictures on her desk. Harry and Ginny, her parents, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.

**"**H... horseback riding?" Hermione said, snapping Ginny back to attention.****

**"**Yes," Ginny said, her own tone nervous. "Problem?" she asked bravely.****

**"**Yeah, actually," Hermione said, glaring at Ginny. "I'm afraid of heights."****

There was a pause, then Ginny let out a snort of laughter.****

**"**That's funny!" she said.****

**"**Why?" Hermione asked.****

**"**Because that's the first thing Ron said."****

Hermione stared at her in shock for roughly ten seconds, her expression suggesting that she was unaware of the sensation of the news Ginny had just imparted.****

**"**Why would I care about a thing like that?" she asked in time.****

**"**Oh, shut up, Hermione," Ginny moaned.****

Hermione instantly backed off, blushing.****

**"**Sorry," she said. "I'm so used to pretending I don't care. I forget that I can be myself around you."****

Ginny's eyes softened.****

**"**Yes, I understand that."****

**"**No you don't!" Hermione said, raising an eyebrow, her expression turning angry. "You've never been in a situation that is anything close to this one! You've never had to pretend- not really. When you were younger you were forced to hide your feelings, but those were simply stupid little schoolgirl crush feelings, not full out love. And two days after the war you and Harry talked it out and you've been a couple ever since! No breakups, no other questions asked that doubted the fact that you were meant to be together. There are many things that you understand, Ginny, but this isn't one of them. So _please_don't pretend that you do."****

Ginny's face did not change through this rant, and that only added fuel to the fire of Hermione's fury. When the brunet was finished, Ginny spoke very quietly.****

**"**You're right," she said. "I'm sorry."****

**"**It's okay," Hermione said, a little stiffly.****

**"**I shouldn't have judged you," Ginny admitted. "I couldn't believe you were willing to do the whole mistress thing. But I've never once thought about what I would do if, say, Harry was engaged to Cho Chang and I was pretending to be married to Dean Thomas. I'd probably be struggling with the same things right now."****

**"**Right," Hermione said, still staring coldly at a spot just beyond Ginny's head.****

**"**And I am so, so sorry that I've treated your breakup like a game. I know it isn't, but I have continued to act like it is, and that isn't right. I swear to god, I have one more amazing idea, and if that doesn't work I am done with schemes."****

**"**Good," Hermione said, relieved. "What's the last plan?"****

**"**I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you," Ginny said, trying to be funny. This was only met by wit from Hermione.****

**"**Doesn't that defeat the purpose of the whole thing anyways?"****

**"**Good point."****

There was silence, silence that was not necessarily uncomfortable, but more musing. Then, suddenly, Hermione whispered,****

**"**Did he really mention my fear of heights?"****

**"**It was the first thing out of his mouth," Ginny reiterated. Hermione's face broke into a huge beam. "C'mon Hermione," Ginny laughed. "You have to know that he'll always care for you, always have your back."****

**"**Of course," Hermione allowed, nodding. "Of course I know that. But sometimes it's easy to forget. I mean, I love him enough to want to do something that I'm completely against. And he obviously doesn't need me enough to want the same thing."****

This was something that Hermione had been thinking about a lot since Ron had told her to go home the other night. She had come to the conclusion that this was the only reason she would be willing to do something so immoral and Ron wasn't. Every bit of her craved and needed him (it had been so long since she'd traced patterns in his freckles) and if he felt anything near what she felt for him, Hermione was sure he wouldn't have stopped it. Ginny, however, had a different idea of things.****

**"**Don't you see, Hermione?" Ginny said, her brows coming together. Her voice was soft, but she was obviously tense. If Hermione didn't grasp this one thing, if she didn't understand what Ron had done for her, all would be lost. "He thinks you're with Viktor! This just goes to show that he loves you enough to let you go. That, Hermione, is huge. He hates himself for doing it but he wants you to be happy. Ronald," Ginny added, in a voice drenched with disbelief, "is being an adult."****

**"**I never thought of it that way," Hermione said, looking a little awe-struck as a silly grin began to etch its way onto her face.****

**"**Hello," Ginny said, rolling her eyes playfully. "Blind spot."****

**"**Does he tell you everything I say to him?" Hermione asked indignantly.****

**"**Not usually," Ginny shrugged. "Just when he's desperate."****

**"**Why was he desperate?" Hermione asked before adding, "Oh god, now I can't stop smiling."****

**"**He was desperate because he wasn't sure if he'd done the right thing."****

**"**He did do the right thing," Hermione said earnestly. "I just wish he hadn't."****

For the first time, Ginny was beginning to feel a little concerned for Hermione's sanity.****

**"**You do know that cheating is wrong, right?" she asked slowly. Hermione turned red.****

**"**Yes, of course."****

**"**This isn't like Hogwarts, Hermione. You break the rules and you get a much larger punishment then a detention."****

**"**I know," Hermione said, lowering her eyes now and looking ashamed of herself. "To be honest, I think it's because I know I'm not married and Lavender and Ron being engaged has never seemed real to me. Not to mention the whole baby thing."****

Her eyes widened with the realization of the bomb she had just dropped, but Ginny didn't even look surprised or ask what she was talking about. Hermione supposed she either already knew about Lavender's baby drama or thought that Hermione was talking about something else. It didn't matter, because when Ginny spoke it was of the other part of Hermione's sentence, not the part that incriminated Lavender.****

**"**You have to act as if it's real. You got yourself into this mess and now you have to stick it out until the end." Ginny told her. Hermione nodded reluctantly. "Unless, of course, you choose to tell Ron. And in that case I'm all for it."****

**"**There's too much at risk," Hermione insisted. "Right now I don't have him, but I think he still loves me and respects me."****

**"**Think?" Ginny sighed, rolling her eyes. But she knew that the battle she was fighting was already lost, so she stood up and pushed her chair back into its place. "Thank you for your time, Hermione," Ginny said.****

**"**You're welcome," Hermione smiled, getting up and striding over to the door with Ginny. "When did you say that this was going to be happening?"****

**"**What?" Ginny asked, momentarily confused.****

**"**The horseback riding."****

**"**Oh, Sunday," Ginny said. "So we're going shopping on Saturday."****

**"**For me?"****

**"**Not unless you want it to be for you. If you don't, of course, just remember to wear something comfortable and old to Aimee's."****

**"**Well then why are we going shopping?" Hermione asked, mindful of the mischievous glint in Ginny's eyes and feeling a little apprehensive due to it.****

**"**I want to buy a pair of cowgirl boots," Ginny said enthusiastically. "I mean, what better time to wear them?"****

**"**Um... I don't think it's that kind of horseback riding," Hermione said tentatively.****

**"**Oh, you haven't met Aimee," Ginny grinned, her tone full of confidence. "It's definitely that kind of horseback riding."****

*******

Picturesque. That was the word Hermione would use to describe Aimee's ranch. Picturesque. She had never seen anything more because then the view of the place- green grass, blue sky, babbling brooks. It was all there, as if the place was some sort of utopia that had sprung into being simply to be _perfect_. When Aimee walked towards them, smiling brightly, Hermione couldn't blame her one bit for asking them to come here. If Hermione owned the place she would be there everyday, everything else be damned- this place could make anyone happy no matter what. And certainly Aimee looked happy. She was the poster girl of confidence, her kinky black corkscrew hair blowing in the light breeze, her bright blue eyes shining, her thin frame dressed in expensive clothes made to look cheap.****

**"**Hi!" she squealed as she hugged Hermione. "Thank you so much for coming- I've wanted to meet you for so long."****

Instantly warming up to the woman, Hermione hugged her back.****

**"**Me too!" Hermione said, her voice almost as squeaky.****

**"**Ginny's told me so much about you," Aimee chuckled. "I feel like we're already best friends."****

**"**That's funny," Hermione said, throwing Ginny a mock-angry look. "I've heard almost nothing about you."****

Ginny just shrugged.****

**"**Aimee's a person you need to discover for yourself," she informed Hermione.****

**"**Excuses, excuses," Hermione tutted.****

**"**I expect you'll learn enough about me in the next few months. By the way, I love your outfit," Aimee told her. Hermione raised her eyebrows. When Ginny had told her to dress in old and comfortable clothes, she had dug deep into her closet and found the oldest stuff she could fit into. Her apparel consisted of extremely worn blue jeans and the single pair of trainers that she owned. Her favorite part of the ensemble, however, was the top. Unbuttoned over a plain white tank top was a blue plaid button down shirt of Ron's. The fabric was soft and comfortable, and seeing as it was Ron's it smelled amazing. Ginny had dared Hermione to steal it from Ron one day in the summer before sixth year. It hadn't fit her then but it did now, and Ron had long since outgrown it. In the back of her mind, Hermione wondered if he would recognize it at all. The idea gave her a bit of a thrill.****

She opened her mouth to thank Aimee for the complement, but no sooner had she done so Aimee released another excited shriek and ran towards Ron. She flung her arms around his neck and gave him a friendly hug, thanking him in a loud voice for all his help with the wedding, then going in to hug Harry. Both looked reasonably flustered once she had let them go and begun babbling about how much fun they were going to have. Laughing, Hermione turned to Ginny.****

**"**Is she always this happy?"****

**"**Basically, yes- so long as she's gotten her morning coffee," Ginny replied. "She had a weak immune system when she was a little girl. She wasn't allowed to leave the house until she was ten years old. Her father- your boss- is... well, incredibly rich, due to some dead people, and he paid for this whole St. Mungo's research project and they figured out how to fix Aimee's system. She still has to go in for treatment once every three months, though. She's like no one else I've ever met. Being unable to go anywhere for years has made her this incredible person with a lust for living. She met her fiancée on an impromptu trip to Greece."****

**"**We ready?" Aimee asked, approaching the women with Harry and Ron in tow. Hermione swallowed nervously. Ron, however distracted as he was by Aimee, noticed this instantly. Moving away from Aimee and to Hermione's side, he bent low and whispered in her ear,****

**"**Every thing's going to be fine." She appreciated this gesture, but she still shook her head, throat too constricted to speak. "Remember when we used to fly together? You were scared the first time, but we got through it, and that was so much higher and faster than this horse is going to be."****

**"**That was different," Hermione managed to say.****

**"**How so?"****

**"**I was holding onto you to the whole time."****

**"**You can hold onto me this time," Ron coaxed after a moment's hesitation.****

**"**It's not the same. I mean, if I fell down then I would bring you down with me and we would just both be crushed to death by the horses' hooves."****

**"**Oh, Hermione."****

**"**What?" she asked, indignant.****

**"**Has anyone ever told you that you think way too much?"****

**"**You have a number of times, and I believe I've told myself that, too."****

**"**Is there any other reason why this should be different? Taking for granted, of course, that you do not get crushed by the hooves of the horses."****

Was there any other reason? Even now, Ron still made her feel safe. Proof of that was when he had gone on stage with her and sung, and Hermione had gotten the strength to go through with it. Because if he was making a fool out of himself with her, it wasn't half as scary. She'd always loved having firsts with Ron, because he never made her feel stupid. He was just as inexperienced as she was in many things, and when they took leaps together it was a learning experience. But this was different. She wasn't in a romantic relationship with Ron (hell, she wasn't even sure if the were in any sort of conventional relationship at all), and she knew that she needed to stay away from him lest she make another bad choice. It scared her, what Ron could do to her. When they had been together the things he made her want and feel had been exhilarating. But now those feelings were the enemy. Now if Ron started snogging her, all of her brain would tell her to pull back instead of getting closer. And if he woke her up at one AM these days and asked if she wanted to go for a walk, she'd have to decline. Well, she'd have to ask how he'd gotten into her house, first. It wasn't like she fell asleep wrapped in his arms anymore. It wouldn't affect her at all if Ron couldn't fall asleep.****

For the past two years, he'd probably had countless sleepless nights, and she hadn't known. Sleepless nights had always been their thing, even at Hogwarts. Hermione wondered why neither of them had thought of it that night on the deck at that ridiculous bar. Then again, she supposed, it was something that they never talked about. When they woke up, they were tired and their smiles were mischievous, but they didn't act like they had gone on a long walk in some place they'd never been or gone to an all night restaurant or snuck into a drive in movie theater or gone to the Burrow and tried to degnome the garden without making any noise. They never spoke of those nights the day after. Hermione wondered what Ron did now when he couldn't fall asleep. Actually, now that she considered it, Hermione realized with an unpleasant jolt that Lavender had probably been going on these adventures with Ron. A fierce bout of protectiveness suddenly consumed Hermione. Those moments were for her and Ron and no one else. Looking into the clear blue eyes that were gazing down at her, Hermione wondered exactly how much Lavender Brown knew about their relationship, and how much of Hermione's Ron had transfered over to Lavender's Ron.****

**"**What are you thinking about?" Ron asked curiously, knowing that she wouldn't be so deep in thought over his question. Hermione quickly returned to where she was supposed to be.****

**"**Nothing," she said hastily.****

The answer did not seem to appease Ron, but when he opened his mouth to release an angry retort Aimee clapped her hands.****

**"**So, I have horses for each of you! Don't be nervous, Hermione, everything will be fine," Aimee said before turning around and walking into the stable.****

**"**You told her I was scared?" Hermione hissed in Ginny's direction.****

**"**Actually, I did," Ron said, sounding completely unafraid of his ex's wrath. Hermione found this very courageous of him. "I wanted her to get you a gentle horse, if there was much of a selection."****

Aimee walked back out, her hands on the reigns of a black horse and a light gray one.****

**"**Harry, this one's for you to ride. His name is Thunder."****

**"**Brilliant," Harry said, reaching up to pat the horse.****

**"**And Ginny, you're going to ride Buttercup."****

**"**Hi, Buttercup," Ginny cooed. "You're so beautiful!"****

Leaving the two of them to get acquainted with their horses, Aimee set back for the stable and came back a moment later with two more horses, both of them brown this time.****

**"**Ron, you're going to be riding Ace. He's high spirited, but I think you'll be able to handle it. And Hermione will be on Penny."****

As Aimee and the horses approached, Hermione and Ron noticed that subtle differences in their coats. Penny was- true to her name- a more coppery brown, while Ace was a reddish brown. At the sight of the horses, Hermione stiffened. Ron gently squeezed her shoulder, but let his hand drop very quickly. After that, Hermione's expression became very closed off and Ron couldn't read the level of her panic anymore. This made him more nervous than he felt when he could tell what she was thinking.****

**"**Well, you two can go off now," Aimee said to Harry and Ginny. She was now on her own horse, one that was a dark chocolaty brown. "Be back at four for lunch! And if you run into any trouble, send red sparks into the sky."****

**"**Where are they going?" Hermione asked, surprised.****

**"**Ginny and Harry have done some riding with me before, so they're taking the trails by themselves so that I can get to know the two of you without interruption. Fun, eh?"****

**"**Yeah," Ron and Hermione said, but both seemed less at ease after their friends were gone. It wasn't that Aimee wasn't an easy person to be around- she was lively and vivacious. But both Ron and Hermione were so impressed with her they were afraid of messing up and discrediting themselves in Aimee's eyes. It seemed that Hermione wasn't the only one with a large fear of being judged.****

Ron swung his leg easily over the horse and clambered onto Ace's back with as much grace as possible. He grinned as Aimee praised him, but when looked down at Hermione she noticed that she was looking at her horse apprehensively, as if it was a puzzle that she was having difficulty solving. Swallowing nervously, he slid off of the horse and strode over to her.****

**"**Need help?" he asked, and Hermione nodded wordlessly. Without further ado, Ron placed his hands around her waist and lifted her onto the back of the horse without so much as a grunt or a strain.****

**"**Impressive!" Aimee said.****

**"**I'm an auror," Ron said, shrugging it off. "We weight train a lot. Plus," he added quietly as he got back onto the horse, "I've had a lot of practice with her."****

**"**Oh, I'd bet," Aimee said. She spent the next few minutes giving the two of them quick instructions on how to ride the horses, then said, "Well, when you're ready you can just follow me."****

Ron started after her, but Hermione remained stationary, trembling. Shifting the direction of his horse, Ron found his way back to Hermione.****

**"**Hermione," he said in an undertone, "you are the bravest woman I have ever met. You are the most _brilliant_woman I have ever met. You have ridden a bloody dragon! And are you really going to let a silly horse scare you?" Looking at him with wide eyes, Hermione shook her head. "Then follow me."****

So she did. She always would.****

*******

The path that Aimee chose was fairly easy. The trio rode along, Ron and Aimee chattering easily. Aimee asked an endless stream of insightful questions about Ron's job, some of which he couldn't answer. Hermione noted with pride that he had told her the answers to many of those just a few weeks before. It seemed that Ron was willing to forgo all the rules to give her what she wanted.****

All the rules except one, of course.****

Aimee spoke at length of her fiancée, her time at Hogwarts, and her job.****

**"**I was a Ravenclaw," she said, "and I thought that my house was the end-all-be-all. Until I realized that Harry Potter was in Gryffindor, of course. Suddenly I wondered if I had gotten into the wrong House," she laughed. "I guess during fifth year everyone wanted to be in the Potter House. We all looked up to the three of you, and some of us wanted to be exactly in your position."****

**"**You wouldn't if you knew what we got up to," Ron said fervently.****

**"**Yes, I know that now," Aimee admitted, bobbing her head. "But back then you guys were the bravest, the funniest and the smartest- an unstoppable pack that everyone wanted to be apart of and no one was allowed into."****

Feeling uncomfortable with the topic, Hermione quickly changed it.****

**"**Tell us about your job, Aimee."****

Ron and Aimee both looked towards Hermione, surprised. She hadn't said anything throughout all the ride. It seemed that she was much more interested in getting through and soaking up the details. Besides, she was angry at herself. She wasn't the damsel in distress, and she felt like Ron was acting the part of her Knight in Shining Armour too much. She could save herself, couldn't she? It was just that, within the time span of a few days, Hermione had been forced to face her two biggest fears. And both of those times, Ron had been there to save her. He had been who and what she had needed. But why did she keep getting thrown into those situations, anyways? Ginny would be the easiest person to blame, but honestly, there had to be some bigger picture. Someone up there was testing her.****

She wondered if it was Bellatrix. How evil could that woman get?****

**"**So when I came to terms with the fact that I started breaking down whenever a child was brought to the emergency ward, I knew I needed a change. That's when I started working in the whole baby division of the hospital, and I've been there ever since. It's actually where I met Ginny for the first time after Hogwarts. We were friends in school, but we lost track of each other. Then, just a few years after the war, I found her in the waiting room, pregnant with the child of Harry Potter!"****

**"**So that's where you come in," Ron said, sounding satisfied with this answer. "I was wondering how you reconnected- Ginny never spoke a lot of you until she got pregnant with James."****

Aimee opened her mouth, but was distracted instantly by the sight of red sparks appearing in the sky.****

**"**Oh, no, they're in trouble. I'd better go to them- you guys, why don't you meet us at the lake? It's just a straight ride, you can't miss it."****

Before waiting for an answer, Aimee turned and sped off. Now Ron and Hermione were all by themselves, staring awkwardly at each other.****

**"**So... lake," Ron said, who had long since noticed that Hermione was being much less talkative then she normally was. He honestly didn't know why- Aimee was the most genuinely amicable person he had ever met. She was a bit of a rambler, but at the same time she was excellent at listening.****

**"**Yes, the lake," Hermione agreed, and Ron stopped his horse for a second so that Hermione could trot into place next to him and they could talk. They didn't, however, talk- it seemed that being in each other's presence was enough, and they both had many thoughts that definitely needed sorting out. It wasn't until the lake came into view that Hermione spoke. "I'd bet she's going to look beautiful in that wedding dress."****

**"**Not as gorgeous as you," Ron said without thinking, and as soon as it came out he clapped his hand over his mouth with a rather comical expression. Hermione laughed, feeling as if a weight had been lifted from her stomach. She hadn't exactly been jealous, but it still felt good to hear Ron say that. "You're doing awesome with this pace- want to race to the lake?"****

Hermione hesitated, and Ron flashed her a hopeful smile.****

**"**Well... alright," she said reluctantly. Ron nudged his horse forward as Aimee had showed them, and Hermione did the same. At first it was fun. Hermione's hair blew pleasantly in the wind, and Ron had to remind himself to stop staring at her laughing profile a few times. But as they cleared the forest and hit the lake, Hermione's horse tripped over something. Penny was fine, but Hermione was thrown off of the horse and to the ground. Ron took a sharp intake of breath and stopped his horse, then jumped off and ran after her. As he approached he heard her swearing loudly, a rather irregular occurrence for Hermione Granger.****

**"**Are you okay?" he panted upon reaching her.****

**"**I think my-" (here she swore again) "-leg is broken!"****

**"**Wow, for someone who never says that word you sure can make good use of it," Ron said proudly, and Hermione threw an angry look at him. "Sorry, Hermione," Ron said hastily, and he got onto his hands and knees and bent over her leg. "Let's see... does this-?"****

**"**JESUS, RON!"****

**"**Yeah, so it does hurt." He liked it better when she said those words in a different context. This was a little alarming. He sat there staring at Hermione for a bit. She had a scrape on her cheek, which he decided to take care of before concentrating on the leg, which was a more complicated problem. He started by summoning a first aid kit. Once it had arrived, he rifled through and searched for a few seconds before finding what he was looking for- a disinfectant paste. Tenderly, Ron rubbed some of it into Hermione's cut. She closed her eyes at his touch, or it may just have been the pain of her leg. "Better?"****

**"**Uh-hu," Hermione breathed. From the watering in her eyes, Ron could tell that nothing was better, but he did like the effect he had on her, so he chose not to call her out on it.****

**"**What should we do about this leg? Can you walk?"****

**"**Of course," Hermione said, knowing that she couldn't. But she had just been thinking about how not to be someone who needed rescuing, and certainly if she let Ron support her it would be falling into that category. So she attempted to stand, but ended up swearing violently again. She sat back down, her face a little paler.****

**"**Okay," Ron said after a moment. "Hermione, please don't kill me."****

**"**Why would I kill you?" Hermione asked, but her question was answered as Ron reached down and scooped her up into his arms, bridal-style. "How does this solve anything?" Hermione inquired as she looped her arms around Ron's neck.****

**"**I can get you to Aimee. She'll know what to do."****

Hermione closed her eyes and rested her head against Ron's shoulder. Whether or not she was fully aware of what she was doing, Ron couldn't care less. In spite of his lie about Lavender, he hadn't shared this sort of closeness with anyone since Hermione left, aside from the few days when they'd been snogging buddies.****

He snorted out loud. Snogging buddies. Honestly.****

Subconsciously, or instinctively, or purely because you can't teach an old dog new tricks, Ron leaned his head on Hermione's.****

**"**Every thing's going to be okay," he whispered into her ear, over and over and over again.****

When they reached a comfortable looking area of grass Ron sat down. But Hermione didn't get out of his arms. They just stayed there, innocently soaking each other in, because they weren't sure how long it would be until they had another moment like this.****

Later on, Aimee arrived to find Hermione asleep in Ron's arms. He refused to let Aimee wake her up, insisting that he was worried she rarely slept anymore. Later, Hermione woke up groggily in his arms, looking around in shock.****

**"**What's going on?" she asked.****

**"**Finally!" Aimee said, rushing back over to the two of them. "Hermione, we need to check your leg."****

**"**Okay," Hermione said, seeming surprisingly content for the situation.****

**"**It's just broken," Aimee said after a few intricate wand movements and muttering some incoherent words under her breath. "I can fix it in a trice. Every thing's going to be okay."****

**"**Oh, I know," Hermione said confidently.****

**"**How?" Aimee asked, frowning.****

**"**Because Ron said so."


	15. Chapter 15

She wasn't sure exactly why she was back in Brown's Coffee Shop, but she knew for a fact that it had something to do with Ginny. When Aimee had sent Hermione an owl asking if she would be willing to meet up at the shop, Hermione had known instantly that Ginny was meddling. Hermione suspected that this had to do with Ginny's final scheme. Aimee had said in her letter that she wanted to check in on Hermione and apologize again for her leg, but Hermione had a feeling that there was a greater motive. Unfortunately, when Hermione had confronted Ginny, her friend had denied her suspicions, which just made Hermione further believe that Ginny was up to something. Ginny was _always_up to something.

**"**So how's your leg?" Aimee asked as she slid into a seat across from Hermione. Hermione had luckily gotten her favorite table, one that was right next to a window and tucked cozily into a corner.****

**"**It's fine," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. "You fixed it perfectly, I promise."****

After Aimee had fixed Hermione's leg with a simple spell, Hermione, with Ron's support, had been able to stand and even walk a little. Her leg had been stiff for a while, but it was definitely better, and there was no lasting damage to it. Aimee felt terribly guilty about leaving them alone, however, and Ron felt terribly guilty about initiating the race in the first place.****

**"**Good," Aimee said. "I guess I'll stop asking now- I can see that it's getting to you."****

**"**Thanks," Hermione laughed. "That would be appreciated."****

She handed Aimee a tea and took a sip of her own.****

**"**Is this what you're drinking?" Aimee asked, and when Hermione nodded she took a sip. "Mmm. Fruity."****

**"**It's my favorite," Hermione said, trying not to gush about the shop. "You should try the pastries."****

**"**I would, but I have to fit into my wedding dress," Aimee laughed. "I don't think Greg would much appreciate it if I walked down the aisle as if I was already pregnant."****

Hermione's smile dimmed at the word , but her expression didn't change.****

**"**You'd be lucky if you were," was all she said. Then she added, "Didn't Ginny tell me that you met Greg in Greece?"****

**"**He was studying there," Aimee said fondly. "He's absolutely brilliant."****

**"**So I'm assuming you called me here for reasons other then idol chitchat," Hermione said, getting to the point. Aimee let out a snort of laughter.****

**"**Wow, you're good. Not that I wouldn't love to make idol chitchat with you, but this time there_is_a reason."****

**"**And I'm guessing it has something to do with Ron."****

**"**How did you know?" Aimee asked, surprised. Hermione pointed behind the woman, and Aimee turned to see Ron emerging through the door, looking less than happy about being back in this coffee shop. The barista at the counter waved at him.****

**"**Long time no see!" she said. "I'm glad you've decided to come back."****

He smiled weakly at her, then quickly ordered a coffee before spotting Aimee and Hermione. He had apparently been caught off guard by seeing his ex, as Ron's eyes widened for a second as he took his coffee. He seemed to shrug it off, however, and after he had strode over to the two women he plopped into the chair that was right next to Hermione, surprising all of them.****

**"**How's your leg?" he asked, his brows creasing with concern.****

**"**I'm fine, Ron, really," Hermione said. He'd already sent her two letters asking if she was okay. "I think the both of you are overreacting to this. A lot."****

Aimee shrugged.****

**"**I just feel bad. I knew that you were afraid of horses and I didn't take those feelings into consideration."****

_And I'm desperately in love with you, so naturally I_would_overreact_, Ron thought. Instead he said,****

**"**I'm the one who made you race. If we hadn't done that you wouldn't have hurt yourself."****

Hermione smiled at him, and Aimee sat there awkwardly while the two held each other's gaze.****

_I can see what Ginny means_, she mused. _They really can't get enough of each other and it_is _a bit annoying to be in their presence when they're so in love. I feel like getting out of the way so that they can pounce on each other in private._****

**"**So!" she said loudly, and Hermione and Ron looked away from each other. "I have news."****

**"**What?" Hermione and Ron asked together.****

**"**You guys know how I want the wedding in Greece, right?"****

**"**Yeah," Hermione said, nodding. "It's driving Ginny crazy because you don't have a venue yet."****

**"**Well, I think I know where I want it."****

**"**That's wonderful!" Hermione said, excited.****

**"**The only problem is I can't actually get there to make sure it's alright and reserve it."****

**"**Oh," Ron said. He thought about this for a moment, then said, "Why don't you just send Ginny?"****

**"**Ginny has two little boys," Aimee sighed. "She can't just take off for Greece."****

There was a long, awkward pause.****

**"**No," Hermione said, suddenly understanding where this was heading. "No, I'm sorry, I can't."****

**"**Come on, Hermione!" Aimee pleaded. "It'll take three days tops."****

**"**Hang on," said Ron, who was still grasping this whole concept. "Does this mean you're trying to send Hermione to Greece?"****

Aimee nodded.****

**"**I mean-" Hermione started, but Ron cut her off.****

**"**She can't go to Greece all by herself!" he said angrily.****

**"**She won't be."****

**"**Viktor doesn't have time," Ron said shortly.****

**"**Oh, Ron, don't be daft! She's talking about you going with me!" Hermione snapped.****

**"**Oh!" Ron said, surprised. Then he shrugged. "Alright. When do we leave?"****

**"**Thursday," Aimee said happily, while Hermione said,****

**"**_What_?"****

**"**C'mon, Hermione. Going to Greece will be fun. Are we really going to miss out on this unique opportunity?"****

**"**With all expenses paid," Aimee added.****

**"**I'm not going!" Hermione said shrilly.****

**"**Don't be such a baby," Ron said, glaring at her.****

**"**There are so many reasons why we shouldn't go."****

**"**Quit being such a wet blanket!" he moaned next.****

**"**Ron, I got the impression when you said we couldn't have an affair that we shouldn't be spending a lot of time together," Hermione cried. "Now you expect us to go off to Greece while we have feelings for each other and for nothing to happen?"****

There was silence around the table.****

**"**Didn't see that coming," Aimee muttered under her breath.****

**"**Hermione, we should just forget about everything that's happened and just go to Greece as-" Ron started, but Hermione jumped up, her expression furious.****

**"**No! No way. I am so sick of forgetting and pretending! I can't even admit I have feelings for you around Ginny, my best friend. For years and years all we've done is pretend. Pretending is the reason that we didn't get together while we were at Hogwarts! Pretending is the reason that we're here now. And I hate it! I can't pretend anymore- my acting ability has been exhausted enough for a bloody lifetime. MAN UP, RONALD WEASLEY, AND QUIT SAYING THAT WE NEED TO PRETEND!"****

Ron stood up.****

**"**Come on," he said to Hermione, before grabbing her arm and pulling her out of the coffee shop.****

**"**Ron! Ron, what are you doing?" He turned on his heel and the sensation of apparation took over everything else. They ended up in front of Ron's door, which he opened with a flick of his wand, then pulled Hermione into his house. "What are you doing?" Hermione demanded again. Ron turned away from her, his hands in his hair, subtly pulling the pieces. "Ro-"****

**"**SHUT UP!" he roared. "I'M TRYING TO THINK, HERMIONE!"****

**"**Sorry," Hermione said meekly, and then she became quiet. A few seconds later Ron turned around, looking as though he hadn't slept for years.****

**"**Hermione," he said shortly. "I love you."****

**"**Oh," she said. "Um, I love you too."****

**"**There. Now we've stopped pretending," Ron said. "And nothing has changed." Hermione's eyes began to fill with tears, but for once Ron wasn't letting them affect him. He needed to get his point across, and if she was crying that meant it was sinking in. "I love you, and you love me, but you are still married to Viktor Krum, and until you rectify that mistake there is nothing we can do."****

**"**But-"****

**"**If you have an affair with me, you will never forgive yourself. And if I was married to you, I sure as hell would rather you divorce me then sleep with Viktor Krum behind my back."****

**"**What about Lavender?"****

**"**Lavender isn't the issue here. Engaged isn't married."****

**"**But Ron-"****

**"**No!" he said, his voice rising. "Hermione, do you bloody understand how much self restraint I have to employ every time I'm around you? Are you under the impression that it's easy?"****

**"**How will Greece do anything to help that?"****

**"**We can't be in any sort of romantic relationship, but we can be friends still! We have to get used to each other, because we aren't used to being friends anymore. We haven't been _just friends_in seven years. If we spent time with each other, perhaps we'll want to be with each other a little less. Maybe that stupid ache will go away a little."****

**"**I sincerely doubt that," Hermione said, crossing her arms.****

**"**We won't know until we've tried," Ron said dully.****

**"**So we're going to try to be just friends in a foreign romantic country where we will be sleeping in hotel rooms quite near each other?"****

**"**Yeah," Ron shrugged.****

**"**You're crazy," Hermione announced. "If you really lo-"****

**"**If I really love you?" Ron said, exasperated. "Haven't I proved a thousand times over that I really love you? Bloody hell, Hermione, look who I was sleeping with that night! Perdita. She's like a knock-off of you, for the love of merlin. Same hair, same skin, similar personality- her name comes from the same play as your does!"****

**"**Oh my _god_," Hermione breathed, eyes suddenly wide. "I never made that connection."****

**"**You are an _idiot_," Ron seethed.****

**"**You make me an idiot," Hermione retorted. "Haven't we gone over this already?"****

**"**Yeah, we have."****

There was silence.****

**"**I don't want to be just friends," Hermione said quietly. "I miss you so much, Ron."****

He strode forward and put his arms around her, trying to comfort her even though he blamed her for many of the more recent messes they had been getting into.****

**"**I know," he said as he placed his chin on her head. "I miss you too. We've talked about this."****

**"**Not when we were fully sober," Hermione said, trying to sound as though she thought it was funny. Ron knew she didn't, and neither did he.****

**"**I just... I don't want you to start the divorce process all for me. I want you to want to leave him regardless of wanting me."****

**"**I've wanted to for a long time," Hermione ad libbed, breathing in deeply. Ron continued.****

**"**And I want you to be sure that I really am who you want, if you do choose to divorce Krum. Because I swear to god, the second those divorce papers are signed I'm proposing to you."****

Hermione chuckled.****

**"**I'm not exactly sure if that's proper etiquette."****

**"**Who the hell cares?"****

**"**Not me, of course," Hermione said hastily. "My parents might, though."****

She used the time during which Ron laughed to consider options for the future. What if it never had to get out that her relationship to Viktor Krum was a fake? What if Ron never needed to know? Could she just let him think that she had been married to Viktor Krum? Would it be a huge issue if she never told Ron? She had a feeling he would hate her forever if he found out what she was doing. She was going to just have to instigate a quickie divorce and have it done with very fast. Maybe right after Greece! But after Hermione left Ron and went to run this idea by Ginny, the redhead was against it.****

**"**First of all, before we even go into how bad that would be for right now, think about the future! Say Ron was to find out completely accidentally. He would be even more mad that you had married him and never told him that your other marriage was a fake. But if you just told him, I'm pretty sure all would be forgiven in the ecstasy of your singleness."****

**"**And what about this would be bad for my present life?" Hermione demanded.****

**"**Hermione, divorce is never simple. People spend years on it, months agonizing over whether or not they should go through with it. Even if you're in love with someone else, divorce is a huge choice to make, and you can't just have it done with in a week. You either tell Ron, or you draw the divorce out. Frankly, I think you should do both. I think you should tell him when you're ready, and the divorce will be able to give you more time."****

**"**But the more time I spend on the fake divorce, the less time I spend with Ron!"****

**"**You got yourself into this mess," Ginny said for the eightieth time. "Oh, and while you're at it, you can't just be over the divorce the day the fake papers are signed. People need at least six months grieving time. And that's generous to you. For most it takes much longer."****

**"**Six months?" Hermione said angrily. "But with the drawn-out divorce included that's almost a year!"****

**"**Or you could just tell him upfront. He's willing to break it off with Lavender."****

**"**That wouldn't change the fact that I remained completely single while I was gone, while he got to snog and date and do everything I didn't. I can't have him knowing that!"****

**"**You make things so complicated," Ginny complained. "Why do you do that to yourself? If you had just... well, never mind. I suppose you've heard this before."****

That was the point where Hermione checked her watch and faked an event that she had to go to. She thanked Ginny, then apparated back to her home. After running up the pathway she threw the door to her cottage open and slammed it shut. Sinking down to the floor with her back against the door, Hermione buried her face in her knees. Then after only a moment she threw her head back and let out a high pitched scream. It was therapeutic. She had wanted to scream for such a long time. The situation the two of them had gotten themselves into left very little room to wiggle, and she was frustrated beyond belief. If Perdita hadn't been there that night, everything would be different. Everything.****

*******

**"**What are you going to do?" Lavender asked Ron. She was sitting on the floor among several pieces of paper, trying to organize all of the lies that they were telling and come up with strategies to keep the whole thing going without actually having to get married. Above her, Ron paced frantically. Lavender was almost positive that he was going to wear a hole in his carpet floor. Luckily for Ron, she knew how to fix those. "I mean, Ron, this is going to kill you, surely and truly."****

**"**I know," Ron moaned. "I mean, I really want to go to Greece, but I never expected Hermione to scream at me and bring that stuff up like she did in the cafe."****

**"**She's bloody unpredictable," Lavender agreed, making a note on one of the pieces of paper. "But, hey. As long as you don't do anything too romantic in Greece-"****

**"**Oh, yeah, because looking at gorgeous wedding venues won't be romantic at all."****

**"**Some churches can be major turnoffs. I've found that in my time."****

Ron, who couldn't remember the last time he'd been to church, didn't exactly know what to say to this.****

**"**Er... I suppose," he replied. He glanced down at one of the lists that Lavender was gazing at. At the top were the words 'Ways to Get Hermione to Become Utterly Unsexy to Ron While They Are in Greece.' "None of these are going to work," he commented dryly.****

**"**Not even number six?" Lavender asked desperately.****

**"**Lavender, I've seen her naked- I doubt having her wear extremely loose fitting clothing the color of vomit will do anything to help me when I can just picture the exact opposite in my head."****

**"**Fair point," Lavender said. "Uhg, that makes numbers eight and twelve bad as well."****

**"**And how exactly were you going to get Hermione Granger into a fat suit and nun's habit, respectively?"****

**"**Um... this is a brainstorm."****

Ron rolled his eyes.****

**"**Besides, since when did you become so organized?"****

**"**Since I started playing ex games with you and Hermione and the lies became too much for me to handle. Need a refresher, by the way?"****

**"**Sure," Ron said, sitting down on the couch and hiding his head in his hands so that he could listen without betraying any emotion.****

**"**Right. So, we got together after Hermione left you the second time, the time after... well, I'm not really sure what exactly happened there. Anyways. You're engaged to me. We got engaged because you got me pregnant. I was, in fact, pregnant, but I lost the baby. I am afraid to tell you. You are unhappy with me and are willing to break it off with me for Hermione even though you still think I'm pregnant," she glanced up at him, her eyes twinkling. "Wow, you great prat! How could you?"****

**"**Uhg, you're right, I do sound awful. I forgot about the whole pregnancy thing."****

**"**You need to take a step back from Hermione," Lavender said wisely. "She knows that the baby is... nonexistent, but she thinks you think that it exists. If you're trying to win her over, rejecting the mother of your child for her is not going to seem quite right."****

**"**Maybe I could tell her that it isn't my baby?"****

**"**How would you know that?" They sat there, thinking, but couldn't come up with anything. "Besides," Lavender added, "I don't want to come across as a complete bitch. There's only so much I'm willing to do. And Hermione was amazing to me when she thought I'd lost the baby... it was actually quite weird."****

**"**So?" Ron said.****

**"**_So_," Lavender replied, rolling her eyes, "I want her to be there for me in the future in case something like that _really_happens! I mean, if that was how she acted when it was the offspring of the love of her life, imagine how sweet she'll be when it comes to someone else who she doesn't give a damn about."****

**"**It does seem weird, doesn't it?" Ron said. "Why would she be so... understanding?"****

**"**I don't know," Lavender shrugged. "I've thought about it but... maybe she was happy about the fact that the baby was lost? So she was extra nice?"****

**"**She's not that awful."****

**"**Well, that's the only thing I could come up with," Lavender said defensively. "Maybe you could ask her while you're in Greece?"****

**"**Yes, alright," Ron said. "Perhaps... if there's wine..."****

**"**Don't drink it," Lavender advised. "You can't afford to loose any focus, control or common sense. Really, you can't."****

**"**Yeah, I know," Ron said.****

**"**So you're leaving tomorrow, yes?" Lavender asked.****

**"**Right."****

**"**What're your plans?"****

**"**We're going to meet Aimee at Harry's. She'll have the portkey. It has to be in the afternoon, during her lunch break, and she's not sure when that's going to be so we need to head over there around eleven o'clock and wait it out."****

Lavender checked her watch.****

**"**Well, I'd better be going," she said, gathering her papers up and placing them in a folder, which she then proceeded to hand to Ron. "Keep these safe, eh?"****

**"**Yeah," Ron said absentmindedly, walking Lavender over to the door. She walked out, then turned around, looking like she was about to say something. Her mouth snapped shut, and she gave his face a searching look. Then she stepped forward and kissed him on the cheek. Unlike Hermione, she did not have to rise on her tip toes.****

**"**Good luck," she whispered. "You're really going to need it. And go get 'er, Ron."****

He watched her as she walked down his driveway. It seemed to Ron Weasley that he had just become very platonic friends with Lavender Brown.****

Huh.


	16. Chapter 16

Every single person had a weakness. It was just an unfortunate fact that made people who they were. No one could be perfect, in spite of how hard they tried. The problem was, Hermione Granger had found that she'd been forced to handle each of her weaknesses quite a lot ever since she came back from France. First it had been putting herself out there in public for everyone to judge her. Then it had been heights. And now it was Ron himself. You see, Hermione had always been completely unable to resist Ron's back. When Ginny had spoken of the physical attributes of men, Hermione had always been unable to understand anything beyond eyes and hair. They were her two favorite features of Ron Weasley. But then, the summer before sixth year, she had seeing him playing Quidditch with no shirt on. He hadn't actually known that she was watching, as he thought she was safely inside talking to Ginny. But Ginny had gone to the bathroom, and Hermione had taken a look outside her window and... wow. Nothing had ever been the same since then.

Right now, Harry and Ron were playing Quidditch in Harry's backyard. It wasn't a warm day, but the pitch had been charmed to heat up when they were playing in the winter. Both of them were sweating buckets, and while sweat wasn't too sexy when you smelled it, from afar it was actually a positive thing. Hermione watched the muscles in Ron's back tense as he leaned forward on his broom, then watched his shoulder blades shift as he threw the quaffle towards the hoop that Harry was attempting to guard. A few seconds later, she saw the muscles move once more as he pumped his fist into the air. Hermione decided that she needed to sit down. She did so facing away from the window, and when Ginny came into the room with a tall glass of water Hermione drank almost all of it in one gulp. Ginny, seeing Hermione's slightly flushed face, peered out the window.

"Oh, really," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Sorry," Hermione said miserably.

"Who are you apologizing to? Me or yourself for depriving your eyes of that apparently marvelous sight that you have been missing out on for the past two years?"

"Let's just go with both of us. And we'll add Ron, because I shouldn't have been looking in the first place."

"What shouldn't you have been looking at?" Ron asked, coming into the kitchen.

"Uhg, you guy stink!" Ginny said in a successful attempt to get the attention off of Ron's question. "Go take a shower!" she demanded of her husband. Harry looked like he dearly would have liked to say, I will if you will, but didn't dare to do so in front of his wife's older brother. Although Ron was looking at Hermione with such a lovesick, puppy dog expression, Harry actually doubted he would notice.

"Here," Hermione said, raising her wand. In a second the sweat and stench washed away.

"Hmm," Ron said, sniffing his arm. "Smells soapy."

Hermione met his gaze and laughed. And that was when she decided. She was going to Greece with Ron. They were going to laugh and have fun and make jokes. Everything was going to be as innocent as when they were first years, and there were no crushes to worry about, no damper on their relationship, no invisible weight looming over their heads. She was even going to tell him this once they got there. Maybe she could sneak out at night and go after some hunky Greek guy! She couldn't let her relationship with Ron affect her like this anymore. Not when she loved him so much. If he said they should be friends, friends they would be, until such time that they chose to further their relationship.

"I found it in a book a while back," she said, grinning. "I guess I should have told you about it before, huh, Ginny?"

"Yeah," Ginny agreed, trying to look angry. "That would have been swell."

A sudden knock at the door made them all jump a little, and Ginny strode over to answer it.

"Hi!" Aimee's voice said.

"You're really early," Ginny commented.

"I know, it's a slow day."

Then, in a flash, she had emerged into the kitchen. Aimee looked so excited, it was as if she was about to go to Greece and not Ron and Hermione. "You should put a shirt on, Ron," she advised, and blushing, Ron summed his shirt from wherever it was and put it on.

"Good to see you, Aimee," Hermione said. She, too, was blushing a little bit, but that was mostly because of the outburst that Aimee had been witness to last time they had seen each other.

"Same to you, Hermine," said Aimee. She reached into her purse and pulled out an old, rolled up newspaper. "Here we go," she grinned. "One portkey, leaving in four minutes. I just stopped over at the ministry and fixed it all up."

"Great," Ron said, and he exited the room to grab his suitcase, which was in the front hall. Hermione suspected he also wanted a moment to compose himself before they left. Hermione did the same, and by the time Ron lumbered back into the room the portkey had started glowing. Quickly, the group moved outside, Aimee placing the object on the ground once they had gotten there. Apprehensively, Hermione placed her finger on the newspaper. Ron's finger also went on. His other hand was dangerously near hers. She knew he wanted to hold her hand so that he could be sure that she was alright during the portkey ride. Steeling herself, Hermione moved her hand sideways and took his. It wasn't a romantic grasp, like they had gotten so used to. It was more on the friendly side, the kind they might have enjoyed when they were younger, had they been bold enough to take the other's hand when they were scared. Their fingers weren't intertwined or anything like that. They were just holding hands. Ron's mouth quirked at the sides. Friends, he thought to himself. We're going to be best friends again. In a way, that was almost exactly what he wanted. Just with more snogging.

Suddenly, the portkey jerked into the air, Ron and Hermione with it. Both had just enough time to call out goodbyes to their friends before they were launched completely into the air. Both had their eyes squeezed shut, knowing only the feeling of the other one right next to them, their sweaty palms clasped together. After what felt like a half an hour of traveling, Hermione and Ron began to descend. Finally, they tumbled into a large area of sand that looked like it had been randomly placed there for portkey landings. Their bodies entwined as they rolled on the ground a little bit, and for a second everything was rather confusing, until Hermione had the good sense to roll off of Ron and Ron had the good sense to take a few deep breaths to control himself.

"Everyone alright?" asked an accented voice, and Ron and Hermione looked up from their spots on the grass to see a representative from the Greek Ministry of Magic staring down at them.

"We're fine," Ron said, leaping up. Hermione also stood, and Ron helped her brush off, careful to avoid touching her butt. She could get the sand off of it herself, he didn't much fancy getting beheaded by the woman he loved.

"Good," the man said shortly. "Here is a map," he added, handing one to Ron and one to Hermione. "I have circled some good places to eat, as well as your hotel and all of the places you will be checking out for the wedding.

"Thank you," Hermione said warmly, her eyes skidding around the map with excitement.

"Enjoy yourselves," the man said, and then there was a faint pop as he vanished into thin air. Hermione and Ron moved away from the patch and further into Athens. Ron had never seen Hermione's eyes so wide- she looked like she was trying to soak in every bit of information she possibly could. When he pointed this out to her, she answered without looking at him.

"I want to memorize every detail so that I never forget it," she told him.

"I'll always be here to help you remember," Ron said. "Don't try so hard- enjoy yourself for once."

His mind, for some reason, had flashed back to Malfoy Manor, as it so often did. At that moment, he had been certain that Hermione was going to die, and that some part of him would die with her. But neither of them were dead. And here they were, seven years later, in Greece. They had lived, lived perhaps a little too much. Ron would have preferred a much quieter and more peaceful life with Hermione than the whole breakup drama. He would have given anything for that. But he supposed that, with the two of them, nothing was ever supposed to be easy. That was the way their game was played.

"Here's the first venue," Hermione said, suddenly coming to a stop. The two of them walked forward and into a large building made of stone. It was old, charming and beautiful. Hermione's eyes were practically lustful as she looked around the architecture. Her characteristic hunger for knowledge made affection for her rush into Ron's heart or stomach or whatever it was that felt like bursting just looking at her. Hermione's enthusiasm did not change as they viewed the next couple of places, and Ron watched her with the same look on his face as he always did. Yes, Greece was beautiful, but he couldn't seem to take his eyes off of Hermione. She was dressed in a shorts and a green tank top, her bushy hair pulled into a ponytail. She hadn't looked this free and blissful in so long, and he felt that it would be better for the both of them if they never left.

Once they had seen all the venues that they were supposed to be looking at that day, Ron suggested they do a bit more sightseeing. They went around many places, soaking in the different language and ways of the culture. The sun setting didn't stop them as they explored further, sometimes apparating to get to different places within a reasonably close vicinity. Tired but happy, Ron and Hermione stumbled into a small restaurant, one that the man they'd met had circled. The tables were small, with candles placed all around. Neither could read the Greek alphabet, so Hermione charmed to menu to be written in English. Some of the letters didn't directly translate, which Ron found irksome and Hermione found fascinating. They decided on their meals, and kept a steady stream of conversation about their day throughout dinner. Both declined any form of alcohol- that just wasn't a good idea. Upon finishing dinner they boxed up their leftovers and took a walk on the beach.

"Let's play a game!" Hermione said suddenly. Ron gave her a strange look, and she turned red. "Oh, not that kind of game."

"What kind of game, then?" Ron asked.

"Let's play one about memories," Hermione suggested.

"Is that such a-?" Ron started, but Hermione plowed on as though she hadn't spoken.

"We'll start with first year and go up every year. Whoever can think of the most things for each year wins that round, and the one who wins the most rounds wins the game."

"Sounds good," Ron said, while secretly beginning to flip out just a little bit. After all their friendly and playful conversation, this was where the evening was going? Hermione may have thought that she would be able to handle it, but Ron sure as hell knew that he couldn't.

"I'll go first," Hermione suggested, and then she lapsed into thought. "First year... the dirt on your nose."

"The sorting hat."

"The three-headed dog. Or should I say Fluffy?"

"Wigardium leviosa," Ron grinned.

"The troll."

"The chessboard."

"Waking up next to you in the hospital wing the day after that."

"Snape."

"Why bring him into this?"

Ron shrugged.

"Just go with it."

"Okay, got anymore?"

"Not really. Year two, then?"

"The flying car!"

"Hey, that doesn't count- you weren't even there."

"Fine. Um... polyjuice."

"You being petrified."

"Can we limit this to happy memories?"

"Er- fine with me," Ron said, thinking about Lavender in sixth year.

"So I suppose spiders are out?" Hermione teased.

"You can use those if I can mention your tail when you were a cat."

"Okay, fine. Next up... mandrakes."

"Harry's singing Valentine."

"Nick's death-day party!"

"Exams being canceled!" Ron said enthusiastically. "Let's go to third year."

"Crookshanks."

"Sirius," Ron said, his throat becoming a bit tighter.

"Buckbeak."

"Kickass Defense Against Dark Arts classes."

"Hogsmeade."

"The Maurauder's Map."

"Mmm, good one. Punching Malfoy!"

"God yes," Ron agreed. "I think that was where I really started falling for you. Even if I didn't realize it until-"

"Fourth year," Hermione said promptly. "The Yule Ball."

"Right. Okay, then, the Quidditch cup."

"Malfoy as a ferret!"

"Why do two of these memories now involve Malfoy somehow humiliated?"

"Maybe because we hated him?"

"Fair enough," Ron agreed. "Alright... I suppose making up with Harry counts as a good memory."

"S.P.E.W!" Hermione said enthusiastically.

"Ah, I was saving spew for seventh year," Ron groaned. "Really, Hermione?"

"I guess we can use it again. The House Elves deserve that type of recognition!"

"Damn straight," Ron said.

"Let's see, fifth year... we have... being alone at Grimmauld place!"

"This isn't about our relationship, Hermione," Ron warned.

"Hey- I'm not the one who wanted to bring up the House Elves in seventh year."

"Face it, you did."

"Your move," Hermione said quickly.

"Right... getting my cleansweep!"

"Becoming prefects."

"The DA."

"Harry's first kiss."

"That's nothing to celebrate- it was wet, sloppy, and before mine."

"Well mine was before either of yours. So ha!"

"Right," Ron said, turning sour. "Vicky."

Hermione, realizing she had killed the mood, bit her lip guiltily.

"I was thinking about you the whole time," she admitted suddenly. "When he was snogging me I would think about you, and then I would shake you out of my head because I knew in my mind that you didn't belong there, although my heart was, believe me, saying something entirely different. But even then I never dreamed... I never dreamed..."

She cut off, looking up at him with confused eyes, and Ron could see a flash of that fifteen year old girl staring at him in fourth year, her expression searching for an answer just as it was now.

"Grawp," he said hoarsely, pulling the subject away from snogging and their past.

"Oh," Hermione said, surprised at this abrupt change. "Right... Umbridge getting taken away by the centaurs."

"Shall we go onto sixth year, then?"

Hermione thought about this.

"Or we could skip it," she suggested.

"Now that I think about it," Ron said, his brows creasing, "I feel like we ought to have more happy memories from school than we do."

"Maybe," Hermione suggested, "it's because the happiest times were so insignificant we can't really remember them. Which, in a way, is a good thing. It shows that we had a decent chance to be children, even though we were facing some terrible things completely head-on."

"So... seventh year, then," Ron said. "Your dress at the wedding."

Hermione laughed.

"Dancing with you at the wedding."

"Um... falling asleep holding hands."

"Feeling protected by you even though I told myself I didn't need protecting."

"We all needed protecting," Ron said. Then he added, "Getting taken care of by you, after I got splinched."

"When you came back."

"You being alive after Malfoy Manor."

"All the times you held me."

"All the times I held you."

"Your brilliant idea to destroy the cup during the final battle."

"Good one. Okay, my turn. Er..."

Hermione laughed.

"Alright, say it. You know you want to."

So Ron tilted his head up towards the sky and yelled,

"HOUSE ELVES! SNOGGING! THE ROOM OF REQUIREMENT!"

Hermione dissolved into a fit of giggles, which Ron looked at her happily. He loved making her laugh, and he luckily found it very easy to do so. When she finally straightened up, her eyes were shining with her glee and her hair was falling all over her face, slipping eagerly from her neat ponytail.

"Okay, age nineteen," Hermione said. "Um... Hogsmeade Weekends."

"Sneaking up to the grounds to see you, through the whoomping willow."

"Talking to you through the floo network until one AM."

"Snogging in the prefects bathroom."

"Snogging in my Head Girl room."

"Snogging in the Room of Requirement. Again."

"Snogging in empty classrooms."

"Snogging in the Three Broomsticks."

"Snogging by the Shrieking Shack."

"Snogging behind the whoomping willow."

"Snogging in your room during Christmas vacation at the Burrow."

"Snogging under the stands during the Quidditch matches."

"We snogged a lot, didn't we?"

"Hell yes."

"Let's move on to twenty. Okay, um... moving in together."

"Eating lunch together at work."

"Seeing each other every day. We'd had such a hard time doing that when we were nineteen because I was at Hogwarts."

"Trying to keep our hands off of each other in the lifts."

"Yeah, that was tough," Hermione agreed. "Um..." Her face suddenly turned serious, and Ron's heart stopped. Oh, god, please don't say it, he begged Hermione in his mind. But she did anyways, in an almost inaudible whisper. "The first time."

"Right," Ron said. "Forgot about that."

Yeah, right.

Hermione stared up at him, her whole body seemingly vibrating heat from embarrassment.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have-"

"No, you shouldn't."

They were silent until Ron took the initiative to lean forward and kiss Hermione. She melted into him, gripping his hair, her knees practically buckling. He kissed her until he thought he might pass out, and then he pulled his head back, still holding onto her waist. Hermione's arms looped around his neck, staring up at him with a lazy smile crossing her face. Quickly, it turned alarmed. There it went. Their innocent little weekend had suddenly become romantic, and the thing that she had wanted to happen least (and most) of all had happened.

"We should go check into the hotel," said Hermione as she wriggled out of Ron's grip. He didn't answer, as her tone made it perfectly clear that they weren't allowed to talk about what had just happened. Slowly, they trudged off of the beach and over to their hotel, both thinking about pretty much the same thing. Fifteen minutes later, they arrived at their lodgings, Ron wanting nothing more then to grab his radio and listen to a Quidditch game, Hermione wishing for a long, hot bubble bath.

"We're here to check in," Ron told the woman at the front desk.

"Name?"

Ron and Hermione exchanged glances. Come to think of it, neither had asked Ginny or Aimee.

"Foster?" Ron tried. The woman shook her head. "Potter?" Once again, the response was negative.

"How about Weasley?" Hermione suggested.

"I have a reservation for Weasely-Granger," the lady said, and Hermione nodded.

"Oh, good. I'm Granger and he's Weasley."

Silently, the lady handed Hermione a key and Ron a key. Both glanced at their room numbers and headed towards the elevators. They went up three flights, then walked down the hallway, both stopping in front of room 177.

"What?" Hermione said.

"What?" Ron repeated.

"This is my room," both of them said simultaneously. Then they stared at each other.

"Seriously?" Hermione moaned. "C'mon, Ginny!"

"No," Ron said, disagreeing. "The lady probably just made a mistake. We'll go back down there and get my room key."

"Ron-"

"No! Ginny wouldn't do that."

"Fine," Hermione shrugged, and she picked up her suitcase and headed back down with Ron. He strode confidently up to the desk, then cleared his throat once he had gotten there.

"What?" the lady asked, looking harassed.

"I need my key," Ron said. "The one to my room. You gave me hers," he added, jabbing a thumb towards Hermione.

The woman checked her reservation book.

"You're only down for one room. Queen-size."

"Huh," Ron said. "Um... are you sure?"

The lady nodded. Ron turned to Hermione, horror struck, while she looked on smugly.

"Fine, Ginny would," Ron sighed. He turned back to the lady. "Can I get another room, then?" he asked. She shook her head. "And why not?" Ron asked, outraged.

"We're all full."

"Oh," Ron said, biting his lip. "Where's the nearest hotel?"

The woman shrugged.

"I'm new. I have no clue."

"Ron, it'll be fine," Hermione said tiredly. "You can sleep on the couch."

She wasn't about to give up the bed. No way, no how.

"Fine," Ron said, and he turned around and led the way back to the room. It was small but pretty, and Ron could tell that this was a nice hotel. Except...

"Where's the couch?" Hermione asked, looking at Ron as though he'd somehow done something with it.

"Er- I dunno," replied Ron, a little alarmed at the look on his ex's face. Hermione darted into the room, surveying the two little armchairs, and medium sized bed, the expensive muggle television and the beautiful fireplace.

"Disgusting!" she said a minute later, walking out of the bathroom.

"What's disgusting?" Ron, who was still in the doorway, asked.

"They have this amazing, gorgeous bathroom with a bloody jacuzzi, but there's no couch!"

"Ooh, a jacuzzi?" Ron said, perking up, but Hermione glared at him. "Right. We're facing the matter at hand."

"Let's sue," Hermione suggested.

"The hotel?"

"No, Ginny. She obviously did something..."

"Yeah, I have to admit this is kind of ridiculous. She probably stole the couch herself and then booked every room in the hotel so that we'd be forced to sleep in this one."

Hermione released a frustrated huff.

"Okay, we can do this," she said. "We can just sleep on opposite ends. Your head can be by my feet, and vise versa."

"Right!" Ron said, less than cheered about this.

"I'm- er- just going to go ask them something downstairs," Hermione said, and then she rushed out of the room. She did indeed check something out downstairs, and that thing was the hotel shop. It was a very expensive hotel, and there were several little stores inside of it. Hermione, having thought she was going to be sleeping in a room completely void of Ron, had only brought sweatpants and a baggy gray t-shirt to wear to bed. Well, two years ago she'd been twenty-three and she'd only slept in tight fitting tank tops and boy shorts at night (Ron ran warm, and when she cuddled with him in anything more she would instantly overheat). Hermione would be dammed before Ron knew how much had changed since then. Hermione looked around the shop until she found little black shorts and a couple of silky tank-tops that were labeled as nightwear. Seriously, she'd rather show too much skin than have Ron realize how anti-sexy she had become. That was out of the question, especially after the way he'd just kissed her. After buying the shorts and three pairs of tank tops, Hermione headed back up to the hotel room. Ron was in his plaid pajama bottoms and was wearing the same shirt as he had been throughout the day.

"I didn't bring a nightshirt," he explained. "I don't like to wear them and thought-"

"Right," Hermione said. She unzipped her suitcase and extracted something from it, then threw it to Ron. He caught it.

"Isn't this mine?" he asked.

"I took it the night I left," Hermione said, blushing. "I sleep in it sometimes."

Ron looked slightly proud of himself as he took off the shirt he'd been wearing and replaced it with the one Hermione supplied. Hermione looked away out of respect for him. Ron crawled onto the bed, getting in on the left, the side he always slept on. Hermione noticed that he was on the extreme end of his side. Well, that was good. He was already setting boundaries. She walked into the bathroom, put on her new clothes, choosing the light pink tank top that complemented her skin tone, then took her hair out of its ponytail and attempted to brush it out. She debated whether or not to take her bra off, as she found bras uncomfortable to sleep in, but in the end Hermione decided against it. Quickly, she pulled open the bathroom door and skittered across the floor and into the bed. Her quickness was in the hopes that Ron wouldn't see her outfit. Unfortunately, he did. He cleared his throat as she settled herself in on the other side of the bed.

"Hey, weren't you supposed to be facing the other way?" Hermione asked suddenly.

"Er- yeah, I tried," Ron said. "But I'm too tall. There's a footboard instead of a headboard, you see."

"Oh yeah," Hermione said.

"Do you want to try?"

Hermione knew that she probably should have, but she just didn't want to. She was already comfortable where she was.

"Not particularly," she replied. Then she closed her eyes and tried to get to sleep. An hour later, however, it became apparent that neither of them were going to be falling asleep. They were too aware of the other one, and they were constantly tossing and turning. Both of them fell off the bed a few times because they were so close to the edge of it. Finally, Hermione scooted upwards into a sitting position. "I can't sleep!" she groaned, hitting her head against the wall in frustration.

"You alright?" Ron asked.

"Uh-hu," Hermione said. "That was purposeful, Ron."

"Just making sure," was Ron's reply, and then he, too, sat up. "Well, let's figure out why we can't sleep."

Usually when they couldn't sleep they went on an adventure and then they talked about why they couldn't fall asleep, but this was a little different. It seemed that their whole day had been an adventure, anyways.

"Okay," Hermione agreed quietly.

"We had a good day today," Ron noted. "So our heads are full of that."

"Plus we just kissed."

"We're bloody confused."

"We have no idea what to do."

"We're kind of in love and all that."

"The tension is palpable."

"We never saw this coming."

As they spoke, their voices and frustration grew higher and louder.

"But we're friends!" Hermione cried suddenly. "Best friends! Why are we letting all this stupid love crap affect us?"

"'Stupid love crap?'" responded Ron. "Um... wow."

"You know what I mean," Hermione said pointedly.

"Look, we should just stay friends," Ron said, annoyed with himself, the world, and Hermione.

"Yes, friends," Hermione agreed. They both sat there, disappointed with this abrupt outcome. Suddenly Ron turned to her.

"You're unhappy with Viktor, yes?"

"Yes..."

"You love me, right?"

"Definitely."

"And I'm unhappy with Lavender!"

"You are? For sure?"

"Hell yes. And I love you! So..."

"You've forgotten your baby," Hermione said guiltily.

"It's not mine," Ron said without thinking.

"What?" Hermione said, shocked.

Ron surprise himself when the answer came readily.

"Lavender lied. She left a paternity test lying around. It's... it is the offspring of Seamus Finnegan."

"Oh. Merlin."

There was another slightly awkward silence as Ron and Hermione mulled these facts over.

"Friends," Hermione said firmly, telling herself that. Suddenly Ron's mouth spread into a grin. Hermione looked at him, her brow furrowed.

"With benefits!" Ron said excitedly. "Friends with benefits!"

"Brilliant!" Hermione said enthusiastically.

"You want to do that?" Ron asked energetically. Hermione felt as though all the soreness and exhaustion was washing away from her body as she rolled over, on top of Ron.

"God yes," she breathed.

Then she kissed him.


	17. Chapter 17

_Lucky_  
><em>Lucky I'm in love with my best friend, lucky to have been where I have been, lucky to be coming home again. -Jason Mraz<em>

It turned out that Greece became slightly more enjoyable when you could walk through the streets holding hands with the person you were in love with. It also turned out that sharing a hotel room had advantages that Hermione and Ron hadn't thought they'd be needing. They shared the bed, they sat in chairs together, they shared the jacuzzi- it was really quite wonderful. They arrived at home three days later with bright, beaming smiles on their faces, and instantly when Hermione arrived at Harry and Ginny's to say hello, Ginny knew what had happened.

"Holy-" (here, Ginny said a word that made Hermione's smile fade just a little bit) "-Hermione! You got laid, didn't you?"

Harry, who had been reading a Quidditch magazine, quickly looked up and got whiplash. He groaned as he massaged his neck, but was shocked to see exactly what Ginny meant.

"She did!"

"Who was it?" Ginny asked. "Please don't tell me it was some hunky Greek guy."

"What if it was?" Hermione (who did not feel like denying the fact that she'd had sex) replied defensively.

"I-" Ginny started, but suddenly the door opened and Ron walked jauntily through. He rushed forward to hug Ginny and then pulled a spluttering Harry in at the same time.

"Hey, Hermione," he said, noticing her standing there looking as though she'd slept with a hanger in her mouth. "All right?"

"Mhmmm," Hermione said lightly.

Ginny let out a scream.

"YOU GOT LAID TOO! OH MY GOD, YOU GUYS!"

She really wanted to say _What were you thinking? _but couldn't quite bring herself to do it, as it was mainly her fault. She just hadn't quite expected them to take the bait so beautifully. Besides, both of them looked extraordinarily happy, happier than either Harry or Ginny had seen them in a long time.

"Don't tell anyone, though," Hermione warned.

"Yeah, don't, really," Ron said.

"Not even Aimee?" Ginny asked. "Because I think she'll be really-"

"No, don't tell Aimee!" Hermione cut in. "She'll think we're bad people."

"We _are_ bad people," Ron said, going over to stand next to her.

"No one can know. _You_ shouldn't know," Hermione added.

"Were you even going to tell me?" Ginny asked. Hermione and Ron simultaneously shook their heads.

"If you hadn't guessed we never would have told you," Ron said.

"Yeah, do you think we're happy with ourselves?" Hermione demanded.

"Um... kind of," Ginny said. Hermione looked up at Ron, and Ron looked down at Hermione. Together, they grinned.

"Yeah, we sort of are," Ron said. "This was like the kiss during the Final Battle. Except totally different than that."

"Exactly!" Hermione said enthusiastically. "You're so _smart_, Ron."

"You get me so _well_, Hermione."

They gazed happily at each other while Ginny made a retching noise.

"What are you going to do?" Harry asked, breaking Hermione and Ron's gaze.

"About what, mate?" Ron asked.

"About your relationship," Harry clarified. "Are you going to keep this going?"

"Of course not," Hermione replied breezily. "It was fun in Greece, but now that we're home it has to stop. We won't be doing it again."

"What?" Ron spluttered. "But I don't want to sto-" Hermione stomped on his foot, and it dawned on Ron. "Riiight. No, of course we won't."

_Wow, she's devious._

"Sure," Ginny said, rolling her eyes. "Well, I'm glad the two of you are back. And... um... I'm glad that you got laid. I think."

"Your plan worked, Ginny," Harry said, eyes back on his magazine. He looked up three seconds later to see them all staring at him. "Oops."

"I knew it was a plan!" Hermione cheered. She rounded on Ron. "Didn't I tell you?"

"You're so_ smart_, Hermione," was Ron's response.

"You're so cute when you call me smart, Ron!"

"This is worse than the first time they got together," a horror struck Harry said.

"At least they were shy about it back then," Ginny agreed. "But this... merlin's pants."

"We're not together," Hermione reminded Ginny. "We really aren't."

"Yeah, yeah," Ginny said. Somewhere upstairs, either James or Al began to cry. "Be right back," Ginny said, diving for the staircase. Harry sighed. He'd wanted to go and tend to the babies instead of having to stay with his friends.

"So, I have to go," Hermione said. "I have a meeting in ten minutes."

"Oh, I have to go too," Ron said, perking up.

"_Really_?" Harry moaned. The sneaking around was so obvious it was almost painful.

"We should go together!" Hermione said.

"You can help me apparate," Ron added.

"Wouldn't that be fun?"

And then the two of them practically skipped out of the house. Harry thought he heard a giggle before the front door closed shut behind them.

"And so it begins," he said, half-amused and half-exasperated. After shaking his head wisely, Harry Potter returned to his Quidditch magazine, a better and safer thing than best friends, romances, and whiplash.

Over the next few weeks, Ron Weasley often showed up at work at the exact same time as Hermione Granger. He also wore an outright smirk everywhere he went, which matched the one of the aforementioned female. Somehow, people were expecting them to get together so little that the rumors didn't even match what was actually happening. Everyone had said that Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger had to be done with each other. They said that the couple had completely given up. With the encouragement of Ginny and a slightly unenthusiastic Harry, Hermione and Ron's reputations were completely saved. The ministry workers had a thoroughly delusional impression of their innocence- all because Ron and Hermione getting back together was simply too good to be true.

Seeing as Hermione's supposed husband lived elsewhere, Ron was able to come to her cottage any time he wanted. Meanwhile, on a more public note, Hermione and Ron found themselves making up excuse after excuse as to why they should leave a room, the other one following soon after. It was almost as if they wanted to be caught, somehow, and Ginny and Harry both knew why. If they were caught Lavender would surely leave Ron, which was what Hermione wanted. And if they were caught Viktor would definitely divorce Hermione, which was what Ron wanted. Neither Hermione nor Ron had anything to lose from being caught, but they both thought that the other did. It was all very confusing, very strange, and very wrong. Harry and Ginny wondered what had happened to the morals of their friends.

"I can't believe this," Ginny said to Harry in an undertone. It was Sunday night, and they were all attending dinner at the Burrow. Ron had, with a wink, vanished to the bathroom, and Hermione had gone after him roughly three minutes later. Everyone looked disgruntled at this, especially Harry and Ginny, who were working relentlessly hard to cover everything up for their friends and did not appreciate their lack of secrecy. Yes, Ginny was an excellent liar. Hermione and Ron, however, had never been the most subtle people. "I've never known either of them to act like this."

"Ron always did think that Hermione was sexy when she broke the rules," Harry said to his wife, but he too looked annoyed at the behavior of their friends. "God, it's like he's dating Lavender all over. I never wanted to redo my sixth year. Well, except for the parts with you. But other than that it was absolutely intolerable..."

Ginny nodded.

"It's just so unbelievable! It's wrong. I know they're in love, but I would have thought that they would have been able to restrain themselves."

"You do call these the ex games, Ginny," Mrs. Weasley, who was next to her daughter, said. "They're playing games, and we're just going to have to wait until the Honeymoon stage passes for them to go quite back to normal and recognize what they're doing."

"How long did the Honeymoon stage last the first time?" Audrey wanted to know.

"Two years, minimum," Fleur sighed. She didn't like to see a good romance tinted by false adultery.

"This won't take two years," Mrs. Weasley said confidently. "I didn't raise Ron to be like that, and Hermione's parents taught her better. Pretty soon it's all going to come out, and then instead of sneaking around they'll be snogging in our faces."

"Just like the old days," George said sarcastically. He was a little annoyed that his little brother's sex life was about twenty times more scandalous than his ever had been.

"Maybe I should have a talk with Hermione," Mrs. Weasley said, glancing in the direction the two had gone in.

"She wants cooking lessons," Fleur interjected. "You could offer to give them to her."

"Yes, I think I will," Mrs. Weasley agreed. So when Hermione and Ron emerged from the bathroom and took their seats again, she called down the table, "Hermione, dear, I hear you want cooking lessons?"

"Yes, that's right," Hermione said, blushing. "Who told you?"

"Oh, a little bird," Mrs. Weasley said nonchalantly. "I was wondering if you'd like me to teach you, dear?"

"Of course!" Hermione said, brightening. "That would be wonderful."

"How about next Saturday? We can make a delightful lunch."

"I'll clear my schedule," Hermione promised.

"Mum," Ron said loudly. "I want cooking lessons too."

Everyone's fork clattered onto his or her plate. Ron Weasley asking for cooking lessons? Even if it _was_ just to spend more time with Hermione, that was simply unheard of.

"He must really love her," Angelina whispered to George.

"Alright, Ronnie," Mrs. Weasley said finally. "You can share Hermione's time."

"But you can't just eat the food we make," Hermione said warningly. "You have to actually help."

"Okay," Ron said instantly. He flashed Hermione a smile, which she returned glowingly.

That night, when they were snogging on Hermione's couch, the former Gryffindor felt her first twinge of nervous regret. She was planning on spending her life with someone who was willing to cheat with her. Honestly, it wasn't exactly her fault that what they were doing was considered cheating. She actually blamed it on Viktor. Hermione was willing to tell Ron her marriage was over as soon as he left Lavender. And she had also been willing to make the first leap with leaving Krum.

She wasn't going to tell Ron, of course. She was going to try to get away with the whole lie and not tell him until they were at a point where they couldn't get out of being in a relationship. Of course, she had to warn her fake husband first, lest he do something to ruin the whole thing. One wrong step and the whole thing would come crashing down upon them. Unfortunately, Viktor was on a business trip and Hermione couldn't reach him. The only thing that kept her going on this whole thing was the fact that Ron wasn't happy in his relationship with Lavender. She had lied to him by saying that she was pregnant with his child. It wasn't even his kid, and Ron didn't know that Lavender had miscarried! _Then again_, Hermione thought, _I'm no better_.

In spite of all of her regrets and twinges and the guilty little voices in the back of her head, Hermione kept going with it. Ron was still a good man. She knew that. He had known that she wanted him, known that she was pretty much checked out of her "marriage". He had checked and made sure of both those things several times before suggesting they did what they were doing. And still it didn't feel like them. It never failed to scare Hermione that Ron could get her to do practically anything. He had succeeded in the weeks since their trip to make Hermione feel better than she had in over two years. She loved how special he made her feel. She also loved it when she had her bad dreams and would wake up and find him there, ready to comfort her. Yet it wasn't the same pure and blissful comforting that the two of them had enjoyed when they were dating for the first time. It was different- tainted, if you will.

And then there was the strange part of her that felt like what they were doing was absolutely right. Hermione knew that, in theory, cheating was wrong, but she had this misguided conception that she and Ron were somehow different from everyone else. Hurting Lavender was okay because she was a lying bitch, and she had stolen Ron from Hermione in sixth year. And helping Ron cheat on Lavender was okay because they were _Ron and Hermione_. They were meant to be, they belonged together. Nothing about them was normal because they were such opposites. But for some reason, they wanted and needed each other, and they just clicked. They were, in a sense of the word, soul mates. Not the kind that were exactly the same- a different type of soul mates. The kind that knew that they were going to be together forever.

To sum it all up, Hermione Granger was confused. She wanted Ron, wanted him more than anything else. But this was immoral, and there were things that she had done that she couldn't possibly take back. She was sure that Ron had done some bad things as well, but none of them could have ever been as bad as what she had done. And she was scared of what might happen if the whole wall she had built came crumbling down around her. Being with Ron was what she wanted. But after that wall was completely down, he might not want to be with her anymore. And that would be a major problem. Still, she kept her head held high, waiting until the days that the Quidditch season ended so that she could figure out where to reach Viktor (unlike Hedwig, Hermione's owl could not find people without an address). When Hermione wasn't with Ron were usually the times that she felt guilty, so she merely threw herself into her work, never stopping to breathe or think.

It was with that same head held high that Hermione headed to Molly Weasleys' the next Saturday for her cooking lesson. She emerged into the Burrow with a smiling face and readily greeted Mrs. Weasley, who looked happy to see her. They stayed and chatted until Ron walked into the door, and then Mrs. Weasley stood up and eyed Hermione and Ron a little menacingly.

"There will be no food fights this time," she said sternly. "I will not have my kitchen turned into a battleground again."

"Got it," Ron said. He went over to the rack where Mrs. Weasley hung the aprons and put one on. Then he turned around to see his mum and girlfriend-type-person in fits of laughter. "What?" he asked.

"You look ridiculous," Hermione said lovingly.

"Thanks, sweetheart," was Ron's sarcastic response. They both tensed after he called her a pet name and glanced over at Mrs. Weasley. She pretended not to notice, and both inwardly breathed sighs of relief. "So, today we will be making corn pudding to go with our steak. Ron, would you be a dear and go grab that mix?"

And so it went, completely void of any food fights, much to the delight of Mrs. Weasley. Carefully, she watched Ron and Hermione. And the more she watched the harder it became to do what she wanted to do. She had thought that this would be an opportunity to get them to confess the truth to each other. Yes, it would be hard, but Molly Weasley found that she could be very persuasive if she wanted to. She knew that it might tear Ron and Hermione apart if they confessed the truth to each other (no doubt they'd blame themselves but disguise this in anger at the other), but she thought that they would probably end up right when all was said and done.

As Molly watched them, however, she saw how in love they were. And this didn't encourage the idea of Ron and Hermione having a huge fight. She had heard about their fights from Harry, Ginny and George, and found that the idea of this one was even worse than the time Hermione's cat may or may not have eaten Ron's rat. Molly told herself over and over again that she had to do it. Cheating was wrong, even though they weren't actually cheating on anyone. It was the mentality that they were and they were still willing to do it. But no one was perfect, she told herself. Maybe they would figure it out soon enough anyways. Maybe she wouldn't have to throw herself into the middle of the mess and end up making it worse.

Molly didn't trust herself to make the decision on her own. When the corn pudding and steak were done, Mrs. Weasley interrupted Ron (who was heavily complementing Hermione on how well she'd done with the stirring) to ask the both of them to please clean up. Then she hurried from the room and gone to her husband's study to talk to him. It was a small, dingy room, full of extremely worn second-hand leather couches, but Arthur loved it dearly, and as long as he didn't spend too much time in there, Molly didn't really mind. Sometimes that den had been their only escape from the children. When Bill was old enough to keep a watchful eye on his siblings, Molly and Arthur had locked themselves in that room for at least ten minutes and just sat there relaxing, talking, or breathing. Breathing was something that was difficult when you had as many kids as the Weasleys did. Now, Molly walked into the room and plopped onto one of the couches. Arthur looked up from the radio he was tinkering with.

"How's it going, love?"

"Not good," Molly replied. "I don't want to do it!"

Arthur scrutinized her. He was a goofy man, but he could be surprisingly wise and mature. Out of all her sons, Molly rather thought that Ron took after his father the most. Though Ron was slightly less polite then Arthur, he had undoubtedly inherited his inability to understand when a girl fancied him.

"Well, why not?"

"They're perfect together. They're happy, Arthur. I just want Ron to be happy, and Hermione's making him happy."

"He's also doing something wrong."

"But he isn't really! Did I mention the fact that he's happy?"

"You might have," Arthur said. "Well, Molly, I suppose it comes down to what you're comfortable doing, and what you think is the right thing. Ron and Hermione's case isn't exactly a textbook example, so you're going to have to go on your own morals."

"What if I do the wrong thing?" Molly asked.

"Then you can learn from it. We learn something new every day, don't we?"

"Of course we do," Molly replied, standing up. She straightened her robes and walked back into the kitchen. Upon reaching the doorway she stopped in shock. Hermione was sitting on the kitchen counter, and Ron was kissing her. She hadn't seen Ron kissing his girlfriend in over two years, and in those 730-plus days she had forgotten what it looked like. It wasn't what someone expected cheating to be. He was kissing her like she was unique and precious. He was more gentle than Molly had ever seen her son be. One of his hands was on her cheek, the other in her hair. It wasn't fast paced or lustful. It was slow, loving and sweet, with its very own brand of passion that Molly felt like Ron and Hermione specialized in. Quickly, Molly backed out of the room and went back to her husband's study, where she stayed until Ron came to knock and ask where she'd gone off to.

She wasn't going to talk to them about their situation. Not today.

***

It was nice to be back in the dress shop. It held one simple but marvelous memory for Hermione, and she had closed her eyes and re-lived it a few times when she had first stepped into the shop. Sadie had greeted Hermione quite excitedly, and as the girl had twittered happily about Ron and Hermione's kiss (to the chagrin of Hermione and joy of Ginny and Aimee) Hermione had realized that she didn't quite have the heart to tell her what was going on in her and Ron's life at the moment. She had just told Sadie that she and Ron were, in fact, together, at which Sadie practically burst with joy.

"You're a little green, Aimee," Hermione said, looking at her friend in the mirror. "Should I be concerned?"

"Of course not," Aimee said, glancing at herself in the mirror. She swallowed. "I don't know if I can do this."

Hermione gazed jealously at the fairytale dress that her friend was standing in. Ginny rolled her eyes.

"Of course you can. Don't be stupid."

Meanwhile, Hermione chose to take a more gentle approach.

"Every thing's going to be perfect," Hermione told Aimee kindly. "You look gorgeous- Greg's eyes are going to fall out of his head."

"Ron's did when he saw her," said Sadie from the corner.

"But that's exactly the problem," Aimee said, stepping down from the platform on which she was surveying herself. "Ron."


	18. Chapter 18

_Just the Way You Are_  
><em>When you smile the whole world stops and stares for a while, because you're amazing just the way you are. -Bruno Mars<em>

"What?" Hermione cried, jumping away from Aimee.

"You're in love with Ron?" Ginny asked, shock written all over her face.

"No, no, of course not!" Aimee said, holding her hands up in the universal _hold it!_ symbol.

"What does Ron have to do with this then?" Hermione asked, breathing a little bit easier.

Aimee hesitated, biting her lip, which caused Ginny to say,

"Aimee, if you don't tell us what Ron has to do with this we're seriously going to think that you're harboring a secret passion for him."

Hermione shuddered at the thought. She had a feeling that she wouldn't stand a chance if Aimee chose to go after Ron. Aimee, meanwhile, turned and looked at Hermione, her panic written all over her face.

"I just... I don't think he looks at me the way Ron looks at Hermione."

"What?" Ginny said mutinously. "That's what this is about? Look, Ron just has a really expressive face!"

"It's true," Hermione agreed.

"I don't know Greg like Hermione knows Ron," Aimee said next. "And he doesn't know me like Ron knows Hermione."

"Time can fix that," Ginny interjected. "Aimee, just because Ron and Hermione have known each other since eleven years old... well, that doesn't mean all couples have to."

"You and Harry have known each other almost as long."

"Well, we got lucky. We were fortunate enough to meet our future spouses at a young age. But do you know the hell we all went through to be together?"

"There's always been a part of me," Hermione said quietly, "that thinks that it's because we met at such a young age and _because_ we went through so much tragedy together that we _have _to stick together. Like we have no choice, because we need each other and no one else will understand our scars. Aimee, I promise, it is not a relationship requirement. It's not even something that you want... not really. Not unless you have to have it because it's forced upon you."

But only one word in Hermione's speech had registered with Aimee.

"Yes, _nee_d!" she said. "You and Ron _need_ each other. More than anything on this earth. And you are willing to do anything to get each other and protect each other. But, Greg... I wouldn't die for him."

"You're not supposed to go into a marriage thinking like that," Ginny said warningly. "I mean, Aimee, you don't even know that- you've never been forced into the idea."

"I didn't make a conscious choice to feel that way," Hermione agreed. "I just remember that Ron was my priority every single time we were in any form of danger, and I'd always watch out for him above anyone else. Not that he needed it. But somewhere in those many battles and trials and tribulations, I realized that I'd throw myself in front of an unforgivable curse for him."

"Why? Why would you do that?" Aimee asked desperately. "Do you just not like your life?"

"No," Hermione said slowly, "it's definitely different than that. It's like... I can't imagine a planet without Ron, and it wouldn't be worthwhile for me to live on. I'd be upset and depressed and lonely for the rest of my life. But I think I could rest happily knowing that he was still there to make people laugh and to take care of our family."

"'Our' family?" Aimee asked, noticing this.

"Hermione thinks of the Weasleys as her family," Ginny said, giggling a little bit. Aimee noticed that the giggle sounded slightly forced. She suspected that this was because of the strain Ginny was under. If Mrs. Potter's work all went down the drain, the aforementioned woman would not be a happy camper.

"Aimee, you love Greg," Hermione said softly.

"Do I?"

"If you didn't would you agree to marry him?"

"But how do I know?" Aimee asked, her voice begging for an answer.

"I had similar issues right before I was going to marry Harry," Ginny cut in. "Not because I doubted that we were supposed to spend the rest of our lives together, but because we were really young. Harry was, however, eager to start a family- he needed one. He needed the family that he'd never had. So I closed my eyes and asked myself if I could picture my life without him. And I couldn't, so I married him."

"I always think about all the things I love about Ron, and the things we did to get into a relationship. It made me pull open doors that had just been slammed and run right back into his arms Or, at least, that's what I did when we were together.."

"But Greg and I didn't have this difficult, gripping love story," Aimee said miserably. "We just sort of fell into place."

"YOU DON'T NEED A DIFFICULT LOVE LIFE!" Ginny yelled, frustrated beyond all belief.

"Honestly, you don't," Hermione said urgently. "I'd much rather have had a peaceful, sweet one then one that has resulted in too many tears and too many binging sessions. I mean, Ron is worth it. Like Ginny said, I can't imagine my life without him. But it's not what you'd call fun."

"C'mon Aimee. You can do this," Ginny said.

"No."

"Do as we say," Hermione instructed. "Picture your life without Greg. Picture growing old without him."

Aimee closed her eyes.

"But I... I want to grow old _with_ him," she said, opening them abruptly. From the corner where she had been watching, Sadie breathed a sigh of relief.

"So there you go," Ginny said, her voice finally back to normal.

"Okay," Aimee breathed. "O-kay."

Aimee went back over to the mirror and looked at her tan skin so accented by the white dress. She seemed almost shaky after this whole conversation, and her eyes were a bit wet.

"You can do this," Ginny said, pumping her fist into the air for good effect.

"I'm_ going_ to do this," Aimee said determinedly. "I don't want to be a bachelorett anymore. I'm _done_ with that chapter of my life."

"Good for you!" Hermione said.

"So, let's get me out of this dress," Aimee said, stepping off the platform. "Hermione, what are you wearing?"

"What?" Hermione asked. "What do you mean?"

"You're... you're coming to the wedding aren't you?" Aimee said. She suddenly looked a bit panicky again. "What if I go into freak out mode again? Or what if something goes wrong and Ginny's busy fixing something else that's gone wrong?"

"Nothing's going to go wro-" Ginny began indignantly, but Hermione cut her off.

"Don't worry. If you want me to come I'll come. And I haven't gotten a dress yet."

"Come to think of it, neither have I," Ginny said.

"You two do know that the wedding is in a week, right?" Aimee chuckled. "Seriously, get a move on."

"Why don't we go when we're done here?" Ginny suggested. "That is, if neither of you are too busy."

"It's a Sunday," said Aimee. "I usually don't do anything on Sundays... so I'm free."

"Cool," Ginny said, and Aimee headed over to a stall to change out of her dress.

"By the way," she said as she stepped out of it, "I invited Viktor and Lavender."

There was a bang as the door flew open, kicked by both Hermione and Ginny, who were standing there with murder in their eyes.

"_What_?" they said simultaneously.

"I didn't think you'd be mad..." Aimee said. "I swear to god, I just wanted to meet them."

"Oh my god. I'm going to explode during this wedding," Hermione groaned, slumping against the wall.

"I agree. She really will explode," Ginny said, glaring at Aimee. The woman finished dressing, and the three of them left the shop. Seeing as Greg was a muggle, the wedding was to be in muggle attire. That said, Hermione took Aimee and Ginny to a small boutique she knew of near her childhood home. Feeling too sour and apprehensive to shop for dresses, Hermione chose to let Aimee do it for her, knowing that Aimee's fashion sense was good, if not expensive. Ginny settled on a midnight blue dress that fell to her knees. It had little sparkles all over that made it look as though Ginny was wearing the night sky. Aimee and Ginny then whittled the dresses of Aimee's selection to three choices and had Hermione try them all on. She put on the first one and only liked it moderately. The second one was okay, too. But the third one... she fell in love.

The top half was black, with straps about three fingers wide that were off the shoulder. Usually Hermione would find this a bold choice, but she decided to just go with it. She wanted to look good, didn't she? And it was the bottom half of the dress that she really loved. The bodice stopped at a silky pale pink ribbon, and from there it descended to Hermione's knees in soft little petal-like shapes. It was sort of like the skirt had a bunch of layers cut into it.

"It's beautiful," Aimee breathed as Hermione emerged from the dressing room.

"It's innocent, but seductive," Ginny agreed.

"What, the dress has multiple personalities?" Aimee asked, joking.

"If we put you in a strapless black bra, light pink heels and earrings shaped like roses of the same color you could look amazing!"

"Do you think you could find those things?" Aimee asked excitedly.

"Yeah!" responded Ginny with blissful enthusiasm.

"Oh, wait until I get my hands on your hair," Aimee said happily.

"You won't touch her hair, you'll be in your wedding gown nervously pacing up and down the room."

"I can still do her hair!"

"But-"

"Guys!" Hermione laughed. "I haven't even gotten the dress yet. Stop arguing over who's going to be doing my hair for a wedding that isn't for another week! And... should I get it?"

"Um... yeah," Ginny said as if this was even more obvious than her schoolgirl crush on Harry had been.

So Hermione stepped back into the dressed room, slipped out of the dress and bought it. She chose to ignore Ginny's statement about high heels. It wasn't happening, but Ginny could dream. She went home and she looked at the dress with a sparkle in her eye. Oh, she wasn't showing it to Ron until the day of the wedding! She wanted to see his jaw drop... she loved it when that happened. She hoped that Aimee would be able to straighten her hair properly. Hermione could do it, but it was never good enough. There was always a random wave halfway through that Hermione's magic couldn't fix.

Suddenly her mind flashed to Aimee and their conversation earlier. She wondered if Ron would leave her if Aimee went after him. To Hermione, Aimee was sort of like an end-all-be-all of females. Hermione couldn't imagine being chosen over her by any man. But what about all the stuff that Aimee had been talking about earlier that day? What about the talk about everything that she and Ron had? Did Hermione Granger have something that Aimee found enviable? The thought was inconceivable, and yet it still made Hermione smile. She had Ron. Ron Weasley himself may not be exactly who every girl wanted, but every one of them wanted some sort of variation of what she had with him. Some never got it. Hermione had been granted her soul mate at the tender young age of eleven.

A knock at the door startled her, and Hermione quickly hid the dress in her closet before rushing to the door. Ron stood there, grinning adorably at the sight of her face. She pulled him into her home, slammed the door shut, pushed him against it and pressed her lips against his.

"Hi there," Ron said when she had pulled back. Hermione, in response, snuggled herself into his chest, and a bewildered but amused Ron stroked her hair. "What was that about?"

"We're special," Hermione said. "I'm pretty sure we're special. And no matter how much you know how to drive me crazy, you are also a blessing in disguise."

"Alright then," Ron said, kissing the top of her head. "If you say so."

He lifted Hermione up and they sat on her couch together, kissing slowly. Hermione pulled back and looked at Ron.

"Ron?"

"What?" he said. He didn't like the look on her face.

"Would you leave me if Aimee wanted to be with you?"

He looked down at her, exasperated.

"For the smartest witch of your age you can be unbearably stupid," he said, leaning down to kiss her neck.

"So that means...?" Hermione asked.

"No, I bloody wouldn't," Ron said shortly. "Why would you think I would?"

"She's beautiful."

"Not at beautiful as you."

"She's vivacious."

"I'm vivacious. I need to have someone that I can go up to and beg to be energetic so that I'll feel like I'm making their life better. I like the challenge of getting you away from your books."

"She's smart."

"I'm not even going to dignify that one with a response."

"She's..."

"Stop," Ron said, putting a hand up. "I'll never leave you for anyone, okay? Not now. If I get you now, I'm never letting you go."

"Why?"

"Why?" Ron asked with disbelief. "Because you're _Hermione_. Isn't that reason enough?"

Hermione opened her mouth to answer, but there was a knock on the door. Ron looked at Hermione questioningly, but she just shrugged and got off of his lap to see who it was. As she swung the door open, the face and figure of Viktor Krum was revealed. Hermione's mouth popped open.

"V-Viktor?" she squeaked. "What are you _doing_ here?"

"My assistant told me that you have been requesting a meeting," he said in that familiar voice. "I can only assume that it is about our little ploy to fool-"

"VIKTOR!" Hermione hollered again, and she threw her arms around his neck, sneaking one hand over his mouth to silence him. "Ron is inside of my house," she whispered in Viktor's ear.

"Vat are you doing?" he asked.

"Talking. Snogging. The like."

"So... he knows?" Viktor asked, confused.

"No," Hermione said despairingly. "He doesn't know... I've been trying to contact you to tell you that I think we should get a divorce."

"Oh no! You're divorcing me?" Viktor said, but a smile stretched across his lips.

"Shhh!" was Hermione's response. "Yes, but we can't do this now. I'm going to wait until after Aimee's wedding, okay? Or else it'll be too awkward."

"Oh, yes, I got the invitation to that this morning. From vat you say, I think it's going to be good."

Hermione stepped out of their hug, then said loudly,

"And that's why you can't come in, honey."

"Oh, I understand," Viktor replied, catching on. "Goodbye, baby doll."

He made a little kissy noise and took off down the path, waving at Hermione. She closed the door behind him and leaned against it, her heart beating rather quickly. That had been close.

"Baby doll?" Ron said distastefully.

"I don't condone that," Hermione said. "He just calls me baby doll sometimes. But don't worry about him."

"Why not?" Ron asked. "You didn't ask for the divorce right there, did you?"

"No, of course not," Hermione said smoothly. "He and Lavender are invited to Aimee's wedding, that would be too awkward. I'll ask him after, and in the mean time we'll just keep doing what we're doing."

"Alright then," Ron agreed. Secretly, he was beginning to feel warm inside. Hermione was divorcing Krum, he'd be shot of Lavender. And above all, they'd be going back to Greece, where it all basically began. Slowly, he leaned forward to catch Hermione's lower lip in both of his. She allowed this for a second, then muttered the word tease under her breath and leaned in closer. Suddenly she pulled back, and Ron raised his eyebrow. "Now who's being a tease?"

"You know what's funny?" Hermione asked, discarding this.

"Muggle sitcoms?" Ron suggested.

"Well, yes," Hermione allowed. "But I was thinking on a more personal note."

"Well, I expect I'm about to find out, so why don't you just tell me and save me the trouble of thinking?"

"When we first started dating, it was really awkward. We couldn't kiss or touch without asking permission first. And then somewhere along the we got used to it. But you'd think, because this is sort of the beginning of a relationship, that we'd be having the same troubles. Honestly, though, we aren't."

"You know what's funnier, though?" Ron asked, and Hermione shook her head. "Your solution to the whole issue of our shyness."

"It worked, didn't it?"

"That it did."

_Even though she was finally with Ron, Hermione felt like she was blushing more than ever. Every time he touched her or kissed her she would turn bright red. There were strange nose bumps, weird angles, and random apologizes whenever anything went wrong. But Hermione Granger had had enough. She was used to being good at everything that she cared about and endeavored in. But this... this was different. This was something that she tried and failed at. They were just too weird together! It was so strange, having all of those pent up feelings out in the open. Hermione wasn't used to Ron openly able to look at her that, and she'd often look down and blush whenever she saw that look in his eyes. It was as if nothing at all had changed since school. It wasn't just Hermione, either. Ron flushed a lot as well. Hermione's hand had brushed his thigh at dinner the night before and the whole table had almost caught on fire from the heat Ron had began to emit._

_The final straw, however, was that morning. Hermione had sleepily wandered into the Burrow's kitchen. At first, all was good. Ron stood up to kiss her, and he went his right while she went to his left. There weren't any blush-inducing nose bumps, neither had bad breath, and there wasn't a war raging a few feet away. Suddenly, however, Ron jumped back, his entire face red. Hermione, who had started the week off thinking that this trait of his was endearing, had become entirely sick of the amount of time Ron's cheeks and ears spent being red._

_"I'm sorry!" he'd said nervously. "Was it okay that I kissed you?"_

_Ginny let out a snort and spat out her coffee. Harry was forced to pat her on the back. Hermione stared at Ron, fire starting to come to life in her eyes._

"_Ron, you don't have to ask to kiss me! Would I have to ask before I kissed you?" He shook his head no. "So why do you think you have to ask?" Hermione wanted to know. "Honestly, this has just become ridiculous."_

_"The two of you need to get used to each other," Ginny suggested. "You're not adjusted to this type of relationship, you're still in B.S. mindsets."_

"_Watch your language!" Mrs. Weasley said._

"_Oh, that's not what I meant," Ginny said, laughing. "B.S. is 'Before Snog.'"_

_"Why don't we make it B.K. and be done with all the weird looks?"_

_"No, that'll make me associate our first kiss with a muggle fast-food place I went to while visiting America," Hermione argued. Ron turned red at the word kiss."Really, Ron?" Hermione asked._

"_I'm sorry," Ron groaned. "We were always such a taboo subject! I'm not used to it yet."_

_Hermione looked at him, shaking her head, then left the room without breakfast._

"_Is she mad at me?" Ron asked the room at large._

"_Maybe a little," Mrs. Weasley said gently. "But she's also a little mad at herself. This isn't going quite as naturally as anyone would like it to."_

_Ron, confused and slightly hurt, went into the living room to play a game of chess. A half an hour later a note flew down to him from the direction of the stairs. He grabbed it and opened it to see a letter in Hermione's writing, asking him to please meet her in his room._

"_Want to play a game of Quidditch, Ron?" Harry asked. Ron shook his head._

"_I have to go meet Hermione."_

_"Good luck," Harry said, before turning around and sprinting into the backyard. Ron trudged up the stairs to find Hermione already in his room, pacing relentlessly._

"_What's up?" he asked._

_"I've been thinking," Hermione said, and Ron sat on his bed, knowing that this might be a while. "All my life I've been able to become the best at things. And I wondered how I did that. It was then that I realized that the way I became good at things was working hard and studying. Then I remembered that practice makes perfect. So, I have made a list of three things that scares us about being together. And we are going to practice them until we become really, really good at them."_

_"Okay," Ron said. "What are they?"_

_"Snogging in public/private," Hermione read. "Acknowledging our feelings in public/private. And bringing up anything that has to do with the past."_

_"The past as in... the war that happened two weeks ago?"_

_"Also the whole Krum/Lavender thing," Hermione replied. "But, essentially, yes."_

_"So... what do we do, exactly?" Ron inquired. In response, Hermione sat on the bed next to Ron._

_"First, we are going practice everything that is private. This includes the feelings admitting, the snogging and the talking about the past. We will say them several times until the words have sunk in and become boring and meaningless, with the feelings. We will kiss until it is not odd, more of an instinct. And with the talking about the past... we'll just become one of those open couples that can talk about anything. How about you ask me a question and I ask you one?"_

_"Let's do that first," Ron suggested. "It's hardest."_

_Hermione nodded._

_"Okay, you can go first."_

_"What happened with you and Krum during the Yule Ball and the summer after?"_

_Hermione fought the urge to blush. Merlin, they were already bad at this._

"_Well, we kissed in fourth year," Hermione responded. "Honestly, Ron, it wasn't even a great kiss, though. And then the summer after he invited me to his house, and since I really like traveling I went. We kissed a bit more there, but it didn't really mean anything because every time I kissed him I pictured you."_

_"Wicked," Ron said, grinning._

_"Now I get to ask you a question."_

_"Go for it."_

_"What did you see when you opened up that locket?"_

_Ron bit his lip._

"_Hermione-"_

_"You have to answer!"_

_He took a breath, steeling himself. Then he explained everything. Hermione's jaw went slack as she listened to his story. The idea of Ron thinking those things made her physically sick._

_"Ron, I love you," she said, but it came out as a mumble, much less clear then the words that followed. "I would never say or think those things about you."_

_"I know," Ron promised. "Really, I know that now. And we should probably practice the whole I love you thing, because I didn't quite hear that."_

_"Okay," Hermione said, steeling herself. She cleared her throat. "I love you."_

"_And I love you."_

_"I love you."_

"_Do we keep going with this?"_

_"Basically yes._

"_Right. I love you."_

"_I love you."_

"_I love you."_

"_I love you."_

"_I love you."_

"_I love you."_

"_I love you."_

"_I love you."_

_So it went for a while, until Ron and Hermione became rather sick of saying the words._

"_Snogging next," Hermione said, pointing to her list. Ron scooted closer._

_"Is it okay if-?"_

_"RON!" Hermione said, raising her wand threateningly._

"_Fine," Ron said, and he leaned down and pressed his lips against hers. They kept on repeatedly pulling back and kissing, and they found this exercise rather beneficial. "Brilliant," Ron said after about an hour of doing this. "That was bloody awesome."_

_"So... we have to do the feelings thing and the snogging in public now," Hermione said, pointing to her list. Ron paled._

_"What if we-?"_

_"Coward!" Hermione cried. "What did we just spend the last hour doing?"_

_"Snogging," Ron said. "And not in public."_

_Hermione stood up and took his hand._

"_We're doing this! Because after this it becomes so much easier."_

_The entire Weasley family was sitting at the kitchen table, eating lunch. They looked up as Ron and Hermione came in._

"_Ready?" Ron asked, looking down at Hermione._

"_No, actually, I've decided against-" Hermione started, looking a little panicked, but Ron ignored this and leaned in to kiss her._

"_We're a couple now," he said, pulling back and staring at the faces of his family members. "This means that we are going to be snogging quite a lot, and it also means that I am in love with Hermione Granger. So just... get used to that."_

_He looked down at Hermione pointedly._

"_And I'm in love with Ron," she added. "And... ditto to everything he said. And we apologize for interrupting your lunch and any loss of appetite that our snogging may have resulted-"_

_But suddenly Ron lifted her up and marched her right back to where they'd just come from._

"_Now I'm kissing you for the hell of it," he told her. Hermione closed her eyes._

_"Go for it," she whispered._


	19. Chapter 19

_Get It Right_  
><em>How many times will it take to get it right? -Glee Cast<em>

"Hermione! HERMIONE! _Help_!"

Hermione Granger was pulled out of a blissful sleep by the frantic voice of Ron. She looked around, confused. Usually when Ron's voice sounded like that, it meant that he was in the middle of a bad dream. Usually he shouted those exact words whenever he was back in Malfoy Manor while he was sleeping. As a matter of fact, it had happened several times in the past few weeks they'd been home from Greece. Both Hermione and Ron still had nightmares seven years on, but they became less consistent as time went on.

That morning, however, they were back in Greece. And there was no Ron next to Hermione in bed. She briefly wondered if he'd fallen off while dreaming (it had been known to happen) but then she heard another frantic call for her and realized that Ron was in the bathroom. Without further ado, Hermione leaped out of her warm bed, grabbed her wand from the bedside table, and kicked the bathroom door open. Inside, she expected to see a reincarnated Voldemort attacking Ron in the shower. What she actually saw was about one-thousand times less scary and a little more comical than that. Ron Weasley was standing on a chair, wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, his eyes wild with fear.

"What is it, Ron?" Hermione asked, although she already knew the answer to her own question.

"Sp.._spider_!" Ron squeaked, his voice extremely high pitched.

Hermione fought back the urge to burst into laughter as she looked around to see a rather large spider lurking in the bathroom of the hotel. Calmly, she pointed her wand at the window. It opened. There was a swish and a flick of her wand, and then the spider began to float up into the air and soar towards the window. Once it was out she quickly shut the window, the turned back to Ron.

"All gone," she said, gesturing outside to prove her point.

"Thanks," Ron breathed, getting down from the chair.

"That must have been awful for you," Hermione said sympathetically. Seeing as Ron had been so willing to help her when she'd been facing her fears, she was not about to make fun of him for his.

"It was!" Ron said earnestly. "I'm just sitting here brushing my teeth, and suddenly my eye catches this spider. I didn't have my wand, and I didn't have shoes to kill it with, so I just threw my toothbrush into the sink, leaped up on the chair and... screamed like a girl."

"Well, you woke me right up, so I suppose girly screaming has some merits," Hermione said lightly. Ron walked back over to the sink and ran his toothbrush under the faucet. Hermione gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

"You ready for today?"

Ron nodded.

"Yeah! It's going to be awesome, isn't it?"

Hermione smirked.

"It will be once you've seen me in my dress."

Then she left the bathroom, leaving Ron staring after her in a minor state of shock at how un-Hermioneish that statement had just been.

"Merlin," he said, staring at his reflection in the mirror. "I know exactly how many freckles she has on her nose, but somehow she manages to bloody shock me every day of my life."

Smiling to himself, Ron exited the bathroom to see Hermione standing on the balcony, looking down at the bustling street below. She loved the view from up high, and she apparently loved it so much she could ignore her fear of heights. Ron pulled on a pair of pants before going to join her outside, thinking that the people off Greece might not want to see him in a towel.

"So, what's our schedule like today?" he asked.

"Well," Hermione said. "We're going to a wedding that we've spent the past few months planning. So I'd say that's our biggest priority for today."

"Got it," Ron said. "Not exactly what I meant, though. Care to elaborate?"

"Sure. Viktor and Lavender will be arriving around four thirty for the reception. We have to stop acting couply around that time. And I'll be leaving around ten thirty to go get ready with Ginny, as well as helping Aimee. You and Harry are going to go around making sure that every thing's all set, and then you two can change into your tuxedos."

"I have to admit, I have decided that I like muggle dresses better than wizarding dress robes. They're much tighter. However... I'm not too keen on wearing a tuxedo."

"Honestly, they're not that bad," Hermione said calmly. "Besides, you'll have to get used to it. _I'm_ having a muggle wedding, you know. I can't just make all of my family members skip me getting married so that you won't have to wear a tuxedo."

"Fair enough," Ron said. "I guess I'll live."

***

"Hermione, I want to get married in that dress. Please take it off so that we can switch," Aimee said jokingly. Hermione grinned, then lowered her voice.

"I swear to god Ginny sneaked into my room last night and raised the hemline."

Aimee glanced at it.

"Yeah, probably. But you can fix it with a spell, you know."

Both women stopped talking as Ginny flounced into the room, wearing her dress but void of any makeup.

"Okay, people, go go go! Wedding in five hours! FIVE HOURS! We have got five hours to make everyone look perfect, iron out any chinks, and somehow keep Ron away from Hermione."

"Why did that make the list?" Aimee and Hermione asked simultaneously.

"First of all because we don't want him to see her before the wedding-"

"Ginny, I think you're confusing the tradition that the bride not see the groom before the wedding. There's nothing about ex fiancées," Hermione teased.

"-and also because we don't want Aimee to see the way he looks at her again and get cold feet."

"Fair enough," Aimee said, shrugging, and she turned back to the mirror, looking at her reflection in her bathrobe. "How are we going to tackle this?"

"We want you to be prepared early, so everyone's going to lend a hand. Except Hermione, of course."

"Why not me?" Hermione asked, hurt.

"Fine, what part of Aimee's makeup are you under the misguided impression you'd be good at doing?"

"I see your point," Hermione said. "But what _do_ I do?"

"You can paint my nails!" Aimee said encouragingly. "As long as you know how to color inside of the lines that shouldn't be a problem."

"Please. Hermione has never- a day of her life - colored outside the lines," Ginny snorted.

"You say that as if it's a bad thing," said Hermione, sounding a little hurt.

Luckily for the bride, Hermione seemed to have found her cosmetic calling with painting nails. Aimee was ready to go in no time, minus having her dress on, which they were leaving until the last minute before the wedding. Everyone had heard several horror stories about what could happen to the brides' dress and no one wanted to risk it. Aimee aside, the girls decided to tackle Hermione first. They all felt that they were up to the challenge of her hair (this Hermione seriously doubted) and seemed to think that her face would be fun to make up. So once Aimee was finished getting beautified Hermione found herself getting the same treatment from four tittering bridesmaids, including Ginny. Her eyebrows were pronounced "atrocious", her eyes pronounced "promising" and her hair labeled "a monster". While they were working Ginny put the rose shaped earrings in Hermione's ears and managed to slip the light pink high-heels on her feet without Hermione noticing. Hermione, upon standing up, attempted to take them off, but the bridesmaids and Aimee all began whining about how long and tan they made her legs look, so she relented.

She had to admit, her makeup was done beautifully, and she especially liked how they did her eyes. The eyebrow plucking, however painful, seemed to have had good results. Ginny wanted to paint her nails black but Hermione put her foot down, so they settled for a pale pink the same color of Hermione's skirt. Hermione thought that the hair was the coolest part. Somehow the girls had managed to make it completely straight, then curl the bottoms. They brought her hair around in a half-ponytail, then weaved tiny, magic-shrunken rose buds through the hair that was being pulled away from her face, tying it off with something similar. Then they curled the piece that was hanging down.

"Wow, this even kicks butt over the Yule Ball," Harry, who had come in to talk to Ginny, said. Everyone beamed.

Soon it was time for Aimee to go. After a few tearful hugs, kisses, and exclamations, everyone headed out of the room and into the hall. Hermione, who was not a bridesmaid, would be sitting in the audience. She left the bridesmaids to themselves in the hall and headed into the chapel. Ron and Harry were chatting energetically in one of the pews, Ron's hand saving a place for Hermione to sit next to him. Lavender and Viktor were only invited to the reception, so they didn't need to be worry about those two quite yet. Upon reaching Ron, Hermione cleared her throat.

"Want to move your hand so that I can sit down?"

But Ron's saw Hermione and he seemed to become utterly incapable of speech, movement, or anything else. Rolling her eyes and grinning, Hermione moved Ron's hand herself, then sat down still holding onto it. She stared at him expectantly for about three minutes before Ron finally managed to choke out a word that sounded suspiciously like a swear. Hermione raised her eyebrow and Harry had to good sense to poke Ron very hard in the back.

"Hi!" Ron said. "_Hi_."

Hermione laughed.

"Oh my god, you can be so pathetic sometimes, Ron," Harry sighed.

"You've seen me in a wedding dress, and you've seen me naked, and _this_ is what renders you speechless? I mean, last time you were able to cover the swear."

"I was speechless the first time I saw you naked!"

"Stop. Stop talking_ now,_" Harry pleaded. Ron ignored him.

"Hermione, this is_ sexy_. You never try to be sexy. The other dress was just beautiful... they're two different things. Plus I swear to god Ginny did something to your legs."

Hermione shrugged.

"I don't know. I had my eyes closed most of the time."

Music started to swell, and Ron didn't even bother looking away from Hermione as the bridesmaids and Aimee walked down the aisle and towards Greg. He _did_ notice Hermione getting teary, but he didn't notice Ginny gesturing frantically for her to stop crying, indicating towards her makeup. Harry _did_ notice this, however, and it caused him to burst into laughter in the middle of the service. He managed to disguise this by hiding his face in the diaper bag they'd brought for Al. Hermione watched Aimee and Greg say their vows, her eyes glazing over slightly as her imagination went into overdrive. She pictured herself and Ron standing up there, saying vows that they had written themselves. Ron's would be heartfelt, sweet and funny, and Hermione's would be expressive, tear jerking and eloquent. She'd be wearing a dress almost exactly like the one Aimee was wearing, and after Ron kissed her in front of all their friends and family, Hermione Jean Granger would be a Weasley. Molly Weasley would be her mother-in-law, and Arthur Weasley would be her father-in-law, and Ginny and Harry would be her sister-in-law and brother-in-law, respectively. She had always wanted Ginny to be her sister, and she had always wanted Harry to be her brother.

If she married Ron, everything would just click perfectly into place.

The service finished, and everyone uprooted themselves so that they could apparate or drive to the place where the reception was being held. The whole process ran rather smoothly. Ron and Hermione had already gotten their champagne by the time Lavender and Krum showed up.

"Hi guys!" Lavender said, bouncing over to Hermione and Ron. "How was the service?"

"Beautiful," Hermione smiled.

"I don't know, I wasn't really paying attention," Ron said without thinking. Lavender put her hands on her hips.

"You're such a guy," she complained.

"Um, yeah. I've got the right chromosomes and all that."

Lavender's annoyed retort was drowned by Viktor arriving to stand next to Hermione, and any greeting they were about to exchange died in their throats as Aimee and Greg approached, beaming and holding hands, finally married. Hermione looked on jealously as they ate together at the high table, everyone they loved surrounding them. She wanted that. She bloody _deserved_ that. After everything she'd gone through, was a goddamn wedding too much to ask of the world? Yeah, apparently it was. The night wore on with little improvements to Hermione's mood and a foulness coming to Ron's. He couldn't believe he couldn't dance with Hermione at the wedding that they'd put together just because she was married to Viktor Krum. He wished she'd already gotten the divorce, although he supposed that was going to take a while anyways. So, really, what he wished was that she'd never married Krum in the first place.

Unable to handle it anymore, Hermione exited the room and went outside, where she sat down in a chair and slammed her head against the wall. Ron joined her soon after. Both gazed moodily at the horizon.

"This was supposed to be perfect," Hermione said blandly.

"It's really not."

"It's actually kind of horrible."

"Agreed."

Their heads turned as they looked at each other, and Hermione sighed.

"I know I shouldn't be, but I'm so jealous. Is it too much to ask that I have a big white wedding someday? It was different with Harry and Ginny's wedding... there I was genuinely happy because I had the prospect. But right now my life is a mess, and-"

"I'm not a prospect?" Ron asked.

"You're engaged to Lavender Brown. And, besides, _you_ aren't even a sure thing. Even if you weren't engaged you wouldn't be."

"Why not?" Ron asked.

Hermione looked at him, searching his face. Then she shrugged.

"Just... something."

Ron snorted.

"That's descriptive."

"I don't want to wreck this wedding by telling you."

"It's already pretty much wrecked for the two of us."

"It just... it all stems back to the night with Perdita. If that hadn't happened everything would be different- I've said it before and I'll say it again."

"Why is this so hard? Why is _us _so hard?"

"I don't know."

"It's not fair! We had such a hard time getting together in the first place, and now we're struggling even more. Harry and Ginny had it so easy compared to us. They don't fight like we do, they don't have problems like we do, they don't-"

"-Lie like we do."

"Lie?" Ron said, frowning. "Who said anything about lying?"

"I did."

"Are... are you lying about something?"

Flushing, Hermione attempted to take the attention off of herself.

"Are you?"

Ron, too, turned red.

"We probably both are."

"Wonder what yours is."

"Hmmm."

There was silence as they contemplated this.

"What can we do, Ron?" Hermione said after a while. "I mean, everything happens for a reason, yes? We have worse fights than Harry and Ginny, but that means we have better makeup sex. Do you get what I'm saying?"

"Yeah," Ron said. "I get it. Still not fair."

"No, of course it's not."

A single, frustrated tear rolled down Hermione's cheek and she sighed, hating the way her exhilarated mood had declined just because of a wedding.

"Wait a second," Ron said, sounding confused. "Didn't you and Viktor have a big white wedding?"

"Oh!" Hermione said. She looked extremely caught off guard.

"Well?" Ron said, watching her very carefully.

"It doesn't count," Hermione said quickly, shrugging in a would-be nonchalant way. "I wasn't in love with him."

"Right," Ron said, mulling this over. "Right, yeah." There was a long pause during which Hermione sighed and Ron thought very, very hard. "Hermione," he said suddenly, "if you didn't love Viktor, why did you marry him? You say that you loved me the whole time, but how if that possible when you decide to just go off and marry Krum?"

Hermione's brows creased together as she looked at him.

"I knew I couldn't have you," she said shakily. "I thought you would never want me again, not after the way I'd ruined our relationship. And Viktor, he was there for me. He wanted to help me, he had money, he had sympathy. He was everything I needed if I was going to settle for second best. We weren't even dating," she added. "He just popped the question one day and I told him I'd think about it. But one thought of you and Perdita and I just... I said yes. I figured you two would be dating by then."

"I'm sorry," Ron said quietly.

"I know. Me too," Hermione told him.

Ron reached over and took Hermione's hand while they both stared out at the sky.

"Okay!" Ron said, standing up. "We're going to go in there and get a bit drunker than we are. Then we're going to meet behind that giant potted plant in ten minutes and enjoy our hard work together without incriminating ourselves. That is what we are going to do."

"Right!" Hermione said. "Off we go."

Ron helped her up and the two of them went to find more drinks. Ten minutes later, they were behind the potted plant, pointing out all of the little things to each other that they had done for the wedding. The alcohol and contact with each other improved their moods greatly, and soon they were smiling and laughing together, under the impression no one could see them.

On the other side of the room, Viktor Krum and Lavender Brown were standing at the buffet, getting some more dessert and more drinks.

"How are you?" Viktor asked politely, and Lavender smiled nervously at him.

"Good. I'm good, yeah. You?"

"Ah, fine."

"You had a good Quidditch season this year," Lavender (who had heard about Viktor's new coaching career on several dates) noted.

"Yes, I did, thank you."

They both turned away from the table, their eyes looking around the room, soaking in the beautiful details of the wedding. Suddenly Lavender spotted Hermione and Ron kissing behind the potted plant.

"Awww," she said without thinking. "It's about time, isn't it?"

Viktor had also seen them, and he nodded happily.

"Yes. Yes it is."

Suddenly they turned to each other.

"Wait a minute..." Lavender said. "Um...?"

"Do you vant them together?" Viktor asked, looking at her closely.

"Maybe. Do you?"

"Yes," Viktor said, a smile spreading across his face. "Is your engagement real?"

"No. Is your marriage?"

"Not at all."

They beamed at each other, Lavender letting out a squeal of delight.

"OH MY GOD!" she screamed, jumping up and down. "THIS IS AMAZING!"

"Now ve can just tell them and all vill be alright!"

"Noooo!" Lavender said, shaking her head. "Now we can have _fun_! The messers become the messees."

"Vat does that even mean?" Viktor asked.

Lavender ignored this, as she didn't exactly know herself.

"We're going to work together to force a confession out of them! Ooooh, it's going to be so much fun."

"That does sound fun," Viktor said, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "But... er... perhaps ve should just let them vork it out on their own? You know Ron and Herm-own-ninny. Ve're already in the crossfire enough, but if it gets vorse and ve cause that... vell, they're liable to kill us."

Lavender grabbed Viktor's hand and dragged him into the crowd.

"GINNY!" she called upon seeing the redhead. Ginny looked alarmed to see the two of them together.

"What? What is it?" she asked.

"Ve know," was Viktor's response.

"Everything!" Lavender added happily.

"You know about the fakes?" Ginny gasped.

"Hell yes!" Lavender cheered.

"HARRY!" Ginny screeched, reaching into the crowd and somehow procuring her husband. "They know!"

"_Everything_," Lavender said again.

"You've got to be kidding me," Harry said in response. "God, could Hermione and Ron be any _less _obvious?"


	20. Chapter 20

_My Junk_

_I try and just kick it, but then what can I do? We've all got our junk… and my junk is you. –Spring Awakening Cast. _

Lavender Brown had never seen so much red hair in one place. Her mouth was wide open as she looked around the huge living room at Harry and Ginny's house, filled with a fascinating array of different personalities. There were all of the Weasley boys, their children, their wives. There was Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, the much adored King and Queen of the whole flock. Harry and Ginny were there, sort of like leaders, in high positions because they were the Ron and Hermione experts. Neville, his wife, Hannah Abbott, Luna, her boyfriend, Rolf Scamander, Andromeda and Teddy were all there. And they were going in. This war had just gotten a new commander, a new leader. The strategy had completely changed. At the start of these ex games, Hermione and Ron had been the ones who were trying to mess with each other. But now the whole family was going to be messing with them, so that they would, by their own free will, be pushed into telling each other the truth. And Lavender and Ginny would not rest until that happened.

"EVERYONE! QUIET DOWN, WILL YOU?" Lavender shouted, and the chatter in the room died away. "Good," Lavender said, looking satisfied. "Welcome to Headquarters, people. Headquarters to what, you may ask?" She flicked her wand at the wall, and a large banner appeared bearing the words_Headquarters of Operation: Ron and Hermione_. "Oh yes," Lavender said, smirking.

There was a smattering of applause, led by Fleur, during which Lavender took a bow. Viktor spoke next.

"This is our combined effort to finally get Ron and Hermione together. Forever. Ve vant all the help ve can get, so please put your best foot forward into operations. Ve are absolutely blessed to have practical joke extraordinaire George Veasley with us. George, you vill be of very good use to this project, so ve vant to thank you for agreeing to come."

"My pleasure," George responded. "I think we can agree that this whole thing has gotten a little out of hand-" (here, he glared pointedly at Ginny) "-but I would also argue that the out-of-handness doesn't mean we can't have a little fun."

"Here here!" Angelina cheered. Audrey bit her lip.

"I don't know about this, maybe we should just have an intervention and tell them about how what they're doing is wrong and slip in the secret."

"No," Harry said, cutting in. "They need to tell each other. If they don't they'll regret it forever. They need to be the firsts to say the words, and they need to say them of their own free will."

"Troops," Ginny said, gazing at her friends and family members. "This isn't going to be easy. This is going to be quite tough, actually. The two people in question are quite bright. One is the smartest witch of her age, the other is an auror. But we can defeat them! We will plot for the greater good!"

"Ginny, dear, you're starting to sound like Grindelwald," Mrs. Weasley pointed out.

"Back down a little, yeah?" Charlie added, his eyes twinkling at his youngest sibling.

"Sorry," Ginny said. "I stayed up all last night watching inspirational movies."

"She did," Harry said. "She wouldn't even leave the TV to take care of the babies. I had to do _everything_."

"Guys, stay on topic. Back to the drawing board," Lavender barked. She waved her wand, and a large white board appeared with the words _Drawing Board_ written on top. "Any ideas?"

"Maybe we can plan another wedding for someone, but then say that those people aren't going to get married anymore, and just sort of give the wedding to Ron and Hermione!" Hannah suggested. Ginny shook her head.

"I'm not planning another wedding, thank you very much," she said.

"Perhaps we can all chip in to buy them a very nice dinner, and then slip something into their tea?" Fleur said.

"What part of _free will_ do you not understand?" Lavender snapped, and Fleur gave her an annoyed look.

"Maybe we could get them very, very drunk," Charlie put in.

"No good," Harry said, shaking his head. "Hermione doesn't drink enough to loose her inhibitions, and Ron can hold his liquor too well. He'd drink himself to that point but then he wouldn't remember it the next morning because that's how far gone he'd have to be to spill the secret."

Disappointed, Lavender erased Charlie's suggestion from the white board.

"What if we told them that they'd both get promoted at the Ministry if they just told each other the truth, because that would prove that they had good conduct?" said Percy.

"Not everyone's obsessed with work, Perce," George said. "I doubt that would matter, or be plausible. I think we should get some Weasley fireworks that spell out the words _TELL EACH OTHER THE TRUTH ABOUT YOUR FAKE RELATIONSHIPS, DAMMITT!_ and then they'll think that Merlin is trying to tell them that and they'll just _do_it."

"People, people, people- the answer to this is so _simple_! The Crumple Horned Snorkak has been proven to get people to spill their guts about the most-"

"Moving on," Ginny said. "Any other suggestions?"

"We could lock them in a vault at Gringotts and not let them out until they tell the truth!" Angelina said enthusiastically.

"Nah, the Goblins wouldn't go for it," Bill shrugged. "I'd say-"

"WAIT!" Lavender said, throwing her hand up. "That is a brilliant idea!"

"But it's not-" Bill started, but Lavender silenced him.

"It doesn't need to be Gringotts, silly! It can be anywhere! It can be a room that we lock them in with food and a bed and a little bathroom built off the side, and then it won't open until they've said it."

"There are several issues with that," Audrey pointed out logically. "First of all, where would we find a room that just magically kept them in there?"

"Oh," Lavender said, biting her lip.

Mr. Weasley's face brightened.

"We can lock them in there. We'll keep guard and let them out when we hear them confess."

"Unless we confiscate their wands, Hermione and Ron will be able to blast the door down," Mrs. Weasley sighed. "Damn us for letting them go to Hogwarts!"

"You realize that they wouldn't have met if we hadn't sent Ron, right?" Mr. Weasley chuckled, and Mrs. Weasley laughed.

"Of course, dear."

"Besides," Krum said, looking defeated. "Even if we figured out a way to make the door unblastable, vere vould ve find a room vith all the provisions ve need?"

And suddenly, Neville spoke up for the first time since the meeting started.

"It's brilliant!" he breathed. "Why didn't I think of it before?"

"Think of what, Neville?" Andromeda asked.

"The Room of Requirement, of course!" Neville said happily. "It has everything we need!"

And that was when the plan began to form. Six stages, it was perfect and clear and so perfectly clear that the members of Operation: Ron and Hermione wondered why they hadn't thought of it before. Quickly, Lavender had everyone willing to help sign their names on the white board. Then she divided people into stages.

_Bill Weasley- STAGE TWO__  
><em>_Fleur Weasley- STAGES FIVE/SIX__  
><em>_Victiore Weasley- STAGE ONE__  
><em>_Dom Weasley- STAGE ONE__  
><em>_Charlie Weasley- STAGE TWO__  
><em>_Percy Weasley- STAGE TWO__  
><em>_Audrey Weasley- STAGES FIVE/SIX__  
><em>_Molly Weasley II- STAGE ONE__  
><em>_Hannah Abbott- STAGE THREE__  
><em>_Neville Longbottom- STAGE FOUR__  
><em>_George Weasley- SPECIAL PROJECT__  
><em>_Angelina Weasley- STAGES FIVE/SIX__  
><em>_Roxy Weasley- STAGE ONE__  
><em>_Andromeda Tonks- STAGE ONE__  
><em>_Teddy Tonks- STAGE ONE__  
><em>_Luna Scamander- STAGE TWO__  
><em>_Rolf Scamander- STAGE TWO__  
><em>_Ginny Potter- STAGES FIVE/SIX__  
><em>_Harry Potter- STAGE TWO__  
><em>_Lavender Brown- STAGE FIVE/SIX__  
><em>_Viktor Krum: STAGE THREE__  
><em>  
>"OKAY!" Lavender called through the crowd. "Everyone go find out what your stage is. I want you to get into your groups and formulate plans. As you'll notice, a lot of people are on stage two. This is a very important stage, and you guys need to be as creative as possible."<p>

"Oh no!" Harry exclaimed. "Why do I have to be on stage two? Why can't I be on stage five with Ginny?"

"You're too lax for stage five. We need Ginny's temper with us on that one. But you're perfect for stage two," Lavender said.

For the next two hours, everyone worked hard to come up with a plan for their stages. They left the house reasonably assured that their mission would go absolutely perfectly.

"Remember," Lavender called, "Stage One begins tomorrow- Sunday for those who don't know- so that we can make Stage Four happen by Friday or Saturday. Got it?"

Everyone called back their affirmative responses. And Stage One of Operation: Ron and Hermione did indeed begin the next Thursday.

_STAGE ONE: In Which Young Children Do Research_

Hermione Granger was shaken from her slumber on Saturday morning by the sound of the excited chattering outside of her door. A second later there were a few loud knocks and she bolted out of bed in surprise.

"Did you invite someone here?" Hermione asked a stirring Ron as she put on a robe, and he shook his head, turning over in the bed. Hermione bit her lip and walked over to the front door. She opened it and let out a shocked gasp. Andromeda Tonks was standing there with five young children peering hopefully up at Hermione at her sides. "Um, hello," Hermione said, confused. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

Andromeda smiled.

"Well, as you can see I'm having a little party for Teddy, and the children were asking for stories about Hogwarts. Well, I can barely remember my time there, so I couldn't tell them anything. But I know that you got up to some wonderful adventures while you were at school, so I was wondering if you could tell them some stories?"

Hermione considered this. Then she lowered her voice and said,

"A lot of my Hogwarts stories are a bit... dark for this age-group. I mean, I hardly think any of them want to hear about the things we did to fight Voldemort when they're this young."

"Aunt Hermione?" Teddy piped up, "Do you think you could tell us about Dumbledore's Army and the Room of Requirement?"

Hermione smiled softly and ruffled Teddy's hair.

"Of course! Now that I can tell you about. Come in, come in."

Andromeda ushered the children into Hermione's living room, and as she did so the door to Hermione's bedroom opened. Ron walked out, yawning and shirtless. She let out an alarmed squeak and pointed her wand in his direction. Ron was pushed back into her bedroom, the door of which closed firmly behind him after he'd landed on her bed with a thump.

"So!" she said, plastering a smile onto her face and sitting down in a squishy armchair, around which the children sat. Hermione felt rather like St. Nicholas. She kind of liked it. "I suppose I should start by telling all of you that when I was sixteen years old, one of the Hogwarts's classes was run by a very nasty woman, a woman who actually just got out of Azkaban a few years ago."

"Why was she in Azkaban, Aunt Hermione?" Victoire asked.

"She was mean to muggle-borns," Hermione said. "And that is very wrong. But when she taught at Hogwarts she was mean to everyone! So Uncle Harry decided to start a Defense Against the Dark Arts group so that he could teach everyone how to do magic better. And, as Teddy has told us, it was called Dumbledore's Army."

"Good job, Teddy," Andromeda said gently, and Teddy gave them all a big, open mouthed grin.

"One day, during one of the Defense classes, Uncle Ron told me not to worry because he would go easy on me. Obviously, I got him before he got to me. But, of course, to save his manliness he told his brothers that he meant to let me get him, which was entirely untrue. So then there was-"

"Excuse me Aunt Hermione," Molly said in her squeaky little voice. "But could you tell us more about the room?"

Hermione looked startled, but she nodded.

"Well, you go to Hogwarts and you pace back and forth three times, thinking about what you want the room to be. And then this door appears, and you walk through the door and that's how you get into the room."

"Aunt Hermione," Victoire said, "would the room work if the instructions to change were given by a person on the outside, but he or she didn't actually go inside?"

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, finding it odd that Victoire was asking such an astute question.

"If someone else was in the room, could the person outside give the initial instructions as long as they stayed there the whole time?" Teddy rephrased. Hermione frowned.

"I suppose so," she said. She turned to Andromeda and mouthed _they're so smart!_

Andromeda smiled lovingly down at the children, then glanced at her watch.

"Oh no! Dear, please forgive us, we really must be going," she said, patting Hermione on the head. Hermione noticed that Andromeda pressed down just a little more then usual. The children stood up and were out Hermione's door in the blink of an eye. She could have sworn she heard someone say, "The otter says affirmative. Prankster's gadget planted."

But Hermione didn't dwell on it, because a very confused Ron had just made his way out of her bedroom and, after she explained, began distracting her the best he knew how.

_STAGE ONE: COMPLETED__  
><span>__STAGE TWO: In Which Everyone Tries to be As Annoying As Humanly Possible__  
><span>__STAGE TWO, DAY ONE:_

There were very few situations in which Ron Weasley enjoyed having his back against the wall. This one, however, was one that he would describe as bloody awesome. As Hermione's hands slipped under his shirt and up his chest, he let his own tangle themselves into her hair. It was then that a sudden noise made them jump. Hermione pulled away from Ron, looking confused and slightly dazed.

"What's that?" she asked breathlessly. Ron shrugged and walked over to the door to pull it open.

"Ron, mate! I've just had the most brilliant idea! You should come visit me in Romania!"

It was Charlie, knocking on the door to Ron's house.

"Um... what?" Ron said, looking confused.

"Come to Romania! We can have a whole weekend where all we do is hang out and look at the dragons and-"

"_Now_?" Ron asked.

"No," Charlie said, looking at him oddly. "Like... in a week."

"No thanks, Charlie," Ron said, shaking his head. "I need to stay here."

"Why?"

"Er..."

"Awww, c'mon, Ron. Don't be a killjoy," Charlie said. "We can play Quidditch everyday! It'll be brilliant."

"No thanks," Ron repeated.

"Well, can I at least come in for some tea?" Charlie asked. Ron glanced back towards his bedroom. Hermione was sticking her head out of it. He met her eyes and she shrugged and mouthed the words, I'll come back tomorrow.

"Okay, Charlie," Ron sighed. "Come on in."

_STAGE TWO, DAY TWO:_

Once again, Hermione and Ron found themselves at Hermione's cottage, snogging on the couch. It was a similar situation to one they often found themselves in, because Hermione's place was usually very quiet. Unfortunately, it seemed that some forces above did not want the two of them to be snogging. For the second time in two days, Ron and Hermione were interrupted.

"Hermione!" came a weepy voice. Hermione looked up.

"Luna?" she called. The door burst open and Luna Lovegood barged into the house in a fit of tears. Hermione instantly rolled off of Ron and went to comfort her friend. "Luna, what's wrong?"

Luna looked at Hermione with wide, tear filled eyes.

"I had a f-fight w-with R-Rolf!" Luna sobbed. Ron leaped up from his spot on the couch as Luna dramatically tumbled onto it.

"Oh no!" Hermione said. "That's awful! What was it about?"

Luna paused her tears, looking confused. Then she dissolved into wails again.

"I don't want to talk about it," she announced. She hadn't seemed to have noticed Ron, and with pleading eyes he begged Hermione to let him leave. She nodded and sat down on the couch next to Luna.

"It's okay, every thing's going to be fine," Hermione said soothingly. Ron sighed as he closed the door behind him. That was two Hermione-less days. And counting.

_STAGE TWO, DAY THREE:_

"Ron, c'mon!" came a pleading voice. "We haven't played Quidditch in forever!"

"Not now Harry!" Ron groaned. "I'm kind of busy!"

"Doing what?"

"Snogging!"

"Well you snog all the time!" Harry said, unphased. "Stop snogging for a few hours and come play Quidditch with me."

"You have to be kidding!" Hermione moaned. "HARRY, GO AWAY!"

"NO! I'm staying here until Ron plays Quidditch with me."

"I'll play Quidditch when we're finished," Ron yelled through the door. "And I'll have you know that this is just about the weirdest conversation we've ever had, mate."

"No, you two like to cuddle after you have sex, and by that time it'll be dark out."

"He has a point," Hermione whispered in Ron's ear.

So Ron got up and played Quidditch with Harry. By the time he came back, Hermione was gone.

_STAGE TWO, DAY FOUR:_

"Hermione!" called Mr. Weasley's voice. Hermione let out a frustrated huff.

"Uh-hu?" she said, because her brain had just turned to mush and those were the only coherent words she could form at the moment.

"Hermione, I need help! Could you open the door please?"

Hermione sighed, then stood up and opened the door to her home.

"What do you need help with?" Hermione asked kindly.

"I... I'm having trouble understanding the function of a cellaphone," Mr. Weasley sighed. "Can I come in?"

"Oh! Of course," Hermione said politely, stepping aside for Mr. Weasley. "And it's a cell phone, not a cellaphone."

"See! That's how much trouble I'm having with the concept. What exactly is it a cell phone and not a cellaphone? And what's the difference between a cell phone and a telephone? Ron, what are you doing here?"

Hermione bit her lip.

"I think we're going to need tea."

_STAGE TWO, DAY FIVE:_

Ron angrily pulled the door to his house open. His annoyed expression vanished into confusion as he saw the person standing on his doorstep. Rolf Scamander walked right past Ron and into the house without even asking, causing Hermione to let out a surprised squeal and button up her shirt as quickly as she possibly could.

"What are you doing here?" Ron demanded.

"Luna still isn't talking to me," Rolf sniffed.

"So...?" Ron said.

"Well, your first name starts with an R," Rolf said as if this cleared everything up.

"And...?"

"People whose first names start with the same letter should stick together!" Rolf insisted.

"Why?"

"We tend to have the same romantic issues."

"Why?" Hermione asked this time.

"Well, it all dates back to the Stone Age, when the first Nargle came into existence..."

_STAGE TWO, DAY SIX:_

"Ron," Hermione breathed, "I want you to know that this is not going to be a regular occurrence, and it is only in my deepest form of desperation that I would even consider us doing this."

"Relax, Hermione," Ron said, moving his lips down to her neck. "This is why they give people offices with doors. Didn't you know that?"

"No," Hermione said, trying to keep her focus. "They gave me this office because I am a model employee."

"Yeah, sure," Ron muttered. "Well, at least no one can bother us here."

"Mhmmm."

"Hey, Ron and Hermione!"

The door had burst open without the two of them noticing, and Hermione and Ron jumped away from each other, looking guilty.

"I thought you put locking and silencing charms on the door?" Hermione hissed to Ron. He looked confused.

"I... did?"

"I unlocked it," Bill said cheerily.

"How did you find me?"

"Just a hunch. Hey, Ron, want to go to lunch with me and mum?"

"Oh my god," Ron said, banging his head against the wall. "Someone kill me before I die from sexual frustration."

"Gee, is that possible?" Bill wondered aloud. "You can tell me all about it at lunch!"

_STAGE TWO, DAY SEVEN:_

He was trying to ignore the obnoxious noise. But, honestly, after three minutes of it, Ronald Weasley was about to loose his temper.

"Ron." (knock) "Ron." (knock). "Ron." (knock). "Ron." (knock).

Ron let out another frustrated groan as his older brother's extremely annoying voice pierced the air. Each time Percy said his name, a persistent knock on the door accompanied it.

"WHAT?" Ron, now seriously angry, yelled. Hermione gazed at him reproachfully as she got off of his lap so that he could go get the door.

"Ron," she whispered, "be patient. Why would Percy want to spend time with you? He'll be gone in a minute."

Ron swung the door open and glared at Percy. He supposed it wasn't exactly his brother's fault that Ron hadn't been able to kiss Hermione for more than three minutes in a week. But something weird was going on. For seven days straight, every time he got within an inch of Hermione, one of his friends or family members showed up and figured out how to get them away from each other. And now this.

"What do you want, Percy?" Ron demanded.

"Ron, I need you to come in to the office with me."

"Why?" Ron said, checking his watch. "It's Sunday!"

"Your desk is violating several important ministry policies. We need to get it cleaned up," Percy said stiffly.

"You have got to be kidding me," Ron groaned. "I'm not going, Percy!"

"I'll tell mum!"

"What kind of threat is that?" Ron asked disbelievingly.

"Come on, Ronald," Percy said. And he grabbed Ron's arm and pulled him off to the ministry.

_STAGE TWO: COMPLETED:__  
><span>__STAGE THREE: In Which Viktor Krum Takes Ron Drinking and Hannah Abbott Has Her Say._

As he was walking out of the ministry, Ron ran into Viktor Krum. He didn't actually know why Viktor Krum was anywhere near the Ministry, and to be honest this question never got answered. All he knew was that the first words out of Viktor's mouth were,"Vant to go drinking? On me!" and Ron just went with it. They apparated to The Three Broomsticks, and Hannah greeted them happily.

"What can I get you handsome fellows?" she asked cheerfully.

"Firewhiskey," Ron said hoarsely. "And keep it coming. I've had one strange hell of a week."

Smiling to herself, Hannah went off to get the drinks. As she set a firewhiskey in front of Ron, she asked in a sympathetic voice,

"What's wrong, Mr. Weasley?"

"I... er... me and Lavender have no where to snog," Ron said, glancing at Krum. "My family just keeps on interrupting us."

"Oh!" Hannah said brightly. "I have the perfect solution. You know how Neville works at the school? Well, sometimes we go into the Room of Requirement when we want to be alone. It's really nice- you two should try it. No one can interrupt you if they haven't got a clue where to find you!"

"BRILLIANT!" Ron roared, standing up and pulling Hannah into a crushing hug. He rushed out the door without taking a sip of his firewhiskey. As he left, Hannah winked at Viktor, then pulled out a DA coin.

"Vat is that?" Viktor asked.

"I have to tell Neville to prepare for Stage Four," Hannah said. "And... here we go!"

_STAGE THREE: COMPLETED__  
><span>__STAGE FOUR: In Which Neville "the man" Longbottom Continues to "get" the Room._

"What are you doing here?" Hermione and Neville said in unison.

"I'm patrolling the corridor," Neville said.

"We've come to... er... use the Room of Requirement. You know, for old times' sakes," Hermione answered, blushing.

"Oh, Hannah referred you to this place, did she?" Neville said, grinning. "Here, I'll get it to work for you- one second." He closed his eyes and walked past the room three times. The door appeared, and Neville walked forward and pulled it open for Ron and Hermione. "In you go!" he said happily. The two of them walked in. Neville smirked as he stepped into the room after them. He made sure to keep the door open. "Neither of you can come out until you tell, okay?" he said.

"Tell what?" Ron demanded. But Neville had already gone.

_STAGE FOUR: COMPLETED__  
><span>__STAGE FIVE: In Which There Is Waiting_

Neville Longbottom woke up with a start. He looked around and saw that he was in the fifth floor corridor where the Room of Requirement was. Memories of exactly what he was doing there flooded into his mind almost instantly, and Neville glanced at his watch with a yawn. Ginny would be coming in ten minutes to relieve him of his guard duties. In the mean time, Neville glanced lazily towards the door. He suddenly let out a shocked yelp- Hermione and Ron were emerging, hand in hand.

"You guys!" Neville cried, jumping up.

Ron and Hermione looked at Neville oddly.

"Why are you here?" Ron asked.

"What were you trying to tell us before you left?" Hermione inquired.

"How did you get out?"

Hermione and Ron exchanged glances.

"We... walked?" Ron said for lack of anything better.

"You must have told each other!" Neville said, almost crying with relief.

"Told each other what?" Ron asked, sounding frustrated.

"You know! The big secrets!"

Hermione's expression cleared.

"Oh, you mean the fact that I'm not married to Viktor Krum and Ron's not engaged to Lavender Brown?" Hermione said in a nonchalant voice.

"Exactly!"

"Yeah, we found out about that stuff about a week ago, Neville," Ron said, clapping his friend on the back. "Nice try though."

"What?" Neville gasped, but the two of them merely proceeded to walk down the hallway, hand in hand. Neville stared after them with his mouth hanging wide open. Anger began to surge through him. All that work for... nothing? No way. Quickly, he pulled out his wand and sent a patronus to Ginny.

_STAGE FIVE: Completed.__  
><span>__STAGE SIX: Canceled Due to Unprecedented Circumstances_

A/N: Don't worry, you'll get your flashback :) ~writergirl8


	21. Chapter 21

_Chasing Cars_

_If I lay here. If I just lay here. Would you lie with me and just forget the world? –Snow Patrol._

A/N: THE ENTIRE CHAPTER IS A FLASHBACK! FLASHBACK! FLASHBACK... STILL A FLASHBACK.

She had that feeling again. The sore, exhausted feeling that came with sitting there doing things that gave you headaches for a long amount of time. While her first day back had been nice, it had also been exhausting. There was an excruciatingly large pile of tedious paperwork on Hermione's desk, and she had stared at it for about ten minutes that morning before finally getting started. The woman had gotten used to being lazy, lounging around her hotel room with Ron, making good use of the champagne and strawberries, a wonderfully cliché tradition usually associated with honeymoons. But, hey, when was the next time they were going to be in a hotel room in Greece together? Probably never. Hermione was forcing herself to hang onto every second of this strange existence with Ron, knowing that he could decided to go back to Lavender any day.

Hermione wondered if Ron's day had been as awful as hers. She'd seen him in the cafeteria, but she'd purposefully ignored him, as both Harry and Ginny had gotten angry at Hermione and Ron a few separate times for simply being too conspicuous. Ron had tried to beckon her over, but Hermione, upon realizing just how right Harry and Ginny were, had surreptitiously shaken her head and moved to sit with one of her ministry friends. She hadn't had time to gauge Ron's reaction to this, or even see his face enough to tell whether or not he was in a good mood at all. That said, she had decided to send him a letter explaining her behavior at lunch. He had returned this promptly, inviting her over to his place after work.

At the time, Hermione had been thrilled to accept. Now, though, she wished she had declined and instead taken a very long bubble bath. Hermione exited the ministry wearily, rubbing her eyes and giving halfhearted goodbyes to her coworkers. She flooed to her home and changed out of her work clothes, putting on a pair of comfortable jeans and one of her favorite shirts. It was one of those evenings where she needed something to cheer her up, and, aside from that, she wanted to look nice for Ron. Although she had a feeling the shirt was just going to end up on the floor anyways. After debating for a few seconds on whether or not to wear it, Hermione decided to just go for it and apparated to Ron's house a few seconds later.

"I had the worst day ever," Hermione moaned as she walked inside. She collapsed on the couch and buried her face in the pillows. "My secretary's incompetent, my boss probably hates me, there was a merlin-load of paperwork waiting for me when I got in, and they were out of chicken sandwiches in the cafeteria. Mmm, smells good," she added as an afterthought.

"Weird," Ron said, commenting on the sandwiches. "They had them during my lunch. As a matter of fact I think I grabbed the last..." He trailed off, noticing Hermione's previously calm face that had turned mutinous. "Do you still love me?"

As he said this he handed Hermione a cup of tea. He had evidentially realized how bad her day was due to the tone of her letter. Seeing as he was good at predicting what time she got out of work, he'd probably prepared the tea in hopes that it would calm her down. It was a sweet, thoughtful and surprisingly intimate gesture. Hermione wondered if he'd be willing to let her have that bubble bath after all. Maybe she could just go home and pop back later. Or perhaps he'd let her use his tub! Then again, Ron had his own ways of relaxing her.

"Yes, but I want to kill you. Ron, I was forced to eat the ministry corned beef!"

"Uhg," Ron said, wrinkling his nose. "I hate corned beef."

Hermione grinned at him, thinking of the times that she had gone to the Burrow over the summer. No one except her would notice it, but sometimes Ron, who hated corned beef, would eat every single bite of those sandwiches. His mum would be so busy she'd forget that he hated the meat, and he'd just grit his teeth and eat it. Those were just her first glimpses of the ways Ron Weasley could surprise everyone by being selfless and thoughtful. That was how she knew, all those years, before anyone. Before Harry, before Lavender Brown... even before Ginny, who often called Ron a selfish pig.

"I know you do," was all she said. Ron had heard this story before, and, besides, his lopsided grin made it extremely hard to think. She curled up into a little ball and put her arms around him, pressing herself against his warmth. He held her readily, always there and always prepared to be a guard against bad dreams, bad thoughts, and bad days. She had missed that the past two years. She had missed simple little moments like these, because while she loved kissing Ron, she also loved the aspect of their relationship that didn't necessarily have to be physical. She loved that they could say so many things without words, and that they knew what to do with each other's moods instantly. How many people could boast that of their relationship? Hermione didn't really know. She'd never been in another besides this one.

There was a sudden, loud noise as Ron's owl soared into the house. Instantly, Cow made a dive for Ron and Hermione, hooting energetically. He dropped a letter from Ron's mum into Ron's lap, then made his way over to Hermione. He attempted to nip her finger affectionately, but ended up doing it much harder. Hermione groaned, annoyed, as she saw the blood pooling on her finger.

"Cow!" she admonished. "Don't bite people that hard."

"Honestly, you're just getting worse as the years go on," Ron said sternly to the bird. Cow had the decency to bob his head. "Plasters in the bathroom cabinet," Ron added to Hermione, and she nodded and went to get one.

Inside of the bathroom, Hermione pulled open the door to the cabinet. She expected to find the usual array of medical supplies, but instead she found something entirely out of place: a folder with words written on the outside.

"The Hermione Project?" Hermione said wonderingly.

She glanced out into the living room. Ron was still stroking Cow, talking to him in a firm voice. Swallowing, and knowing in her heart that what she was doing was wrong, Hermione plucked the folder from the cabinet and opened it. Her mouth flew open as she read the words written in the girly scrawl of one Lavender Brown. She scanned the words with an urgency she hadn't known she possessed, and a large smile found its way onto her face. A weight seemed like it had been lifted from her stomach, and she almost felt like she wanted to cry with joy. Instead, she screamed.

"Hermione!" Ron shouted, running to the bathroom. "What's wr-?" But he saw the look on her face, and his panic turned to confusion. With another shriek, Hermione tackled Ron to the ground and kissed him as hard as she could.

"Ron," she said, sitting up so that she could stare down at him.

"Um... yeah?"

"I'm not married to Viktor Krum. I've never been married to Viktor Krum. Actually, Viktor Krum is gay, but that's no matter here. The point is I am unmarried and unattached and we can finally be together and I don't even have to pretend to go through a whole divorce process!"

"Are... are you pulling my leg?" Ron asked, hardly daring to believe all these facts. "And how... how the hell is he gay?"

"Um, I don't know," Hermione said, staring down at him. "In what way to you want me to answer that? Physically... mentally... where are we going with this?"

Ron started at up at her before closing his eyes and shaking his head.

"Wait..." he said slowly. "So... so you're telling me that you aren't married to Viktor Krum?" he asked. She nodded. "Holy-" Ron started, but upon seeing the warning look on her face he finished, once again, with, "shoot! HOLY SHOOT!"

He lifted his arm, locked his fingers in her hair and brought her head down so that he could kiss her furiously. He rolled them over, then lifted her up, never allowing his lips to leave hers. Quickly, he made his way over to the couch, which he dropped onto, Hermione in the same straddling position as she'd been in a few seconds ago. Laboriously, Ron broke away.

"Okay, as much as I want to celebrate that, I have to get more details here."

"Wait!" Hermione said, holding up a finger. "I think there's something you need to tell me first."

Ron blinked at her.

"Wha-? Oh! Oh, right," He grinned at her then, and Hermione's heart seemed to expand with love just looking at that lopsided grin and those beautiful blue eyes. "I... I made up the whole thing about me being engaged to Lavender Brown. She's not pregnant either," he added as an afterthought.

Hermione nodded.

"I know that now. I read your notes on what Lavender called 'The Hermione Project'. That's actually what made me tell you. I was planning on going the rest of our lives without doing that."

"I'm going to pretend you didn't say that," Ron muttered, brushing her hair away from her neck and attaching his lips to a spot.

"What are you doing?" Hermione asked, amused, aroused, and annoyed that he didn't want to finish their conversation.

"I was afraid to give you a love bite when I thought you had a husband. But now... well, you're going to be covered in them. Everywhere."

Hermione laughed and swatted him away.

"C'mon, Ron! We have so much to talk about!"

"Fine," Ron sighed, pulling back and eying her neck longingly. She pushed her hair back into place.

"Eyes. Away."

"You're no fun."

"Take it back or I will be no fun!" Hermione growled. There was a seconds pause, then Ron kissed her again, burying his nose in her hair when he'd pulled back.

"I bloody love bickering with you."

Hermione chuckled.

"You swing my mood so easily it's scary. Now can we please talk about this hell we've been going through the past few months?"

"Right," Ron said, nodding. "As long as you promise to answer all my questions, I'll be on my best behavior."

"Good," Hermione said, satisfied.

"You know, Lavender told me to keep those folders safe, but you can't even fathom how glad I am that I didn't."

"You did," Hermione argued. "That was a very good hiding spot, Ron."

"Well then I'm glad my owl bit you."

"Cheers!"

"So... what happened after you left? What happened really?" he amended hastily.

"I left and I went to France," Hermione said honestly. "I-"

"Did you date?" Ron asked abruptly. Hermione closed her eyes as she shook her head.

"No, I didn't date," she said, and she could almost feel the relief wash over Ron. "I never got over you, you know that. I missed you every day. And every time a guy asked me out I just compared him to you and all of his chances went down the drain."

"Who asked you out?" Ron demanded. "Do I need to pummel anyone?"

Hermione kissed his nose.

"No, Ron. Seeing as we weren't together at the time I daresay you have absolutely no right at all to do that. Besides, I can't even remember most of their names."

She added this last part- a lie- for the benefit of Ron. He seemed to appreciate it.

"Good."

"How about you?" Hermione asked. "Did you date?"

Ron shook his head.

"Nope. I became a terrible work-o-holic... I basically shut myself away from everyone. Grew a beard because I just didn't care enough to shave, that type of thing."

"How did it look?" Hermione asked, a small smile beginning to grace her features. Almost unconsciously, she reached a hand up and rubbed Ron's clean-shaven jaw.

"Pretty damn awful actually," Ron laughed.

"I can't imagine you with a beard."

"Try not to. It's not a pretty sight."

"Oh, I don't know," Hermione said, leaning down a dropping a few light kisses on his jawline. "I think it could be sexy."

"Well, I'll let you be the judge of it," shrugged Ron. "Maybe I'll grow one another time."

"I like you clean-shaven too, though," she said musingly. "So don't do it quite yet."

"Anything," Ron said adoringly. Hermione beamed.

"So what happened to it, then?" she asked.

"What?" Ron, who had just accidentally become distracted by her eyes, responded.

"Your beard," Hermione said. "Your masculine, grown up beard."

Ron chuckled.

"Obviously I shaved it off. A week before you got back, actually."

Hermione's smile diminished.

"Ron, what happened that day? Why did you lie?"

Ron closed his eyes, trying to remember exactly what he had been feeling that had caused him to do this to both him and Hermione.

"I remember your hair," he said clearly. "It was straight."

"Yeah..." Hermione said slowly. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"I wanted so badly to tell you that I like your hair better naturally," admitted Ron as he fondly tugged on a piece.

"And why didn't you?" Hermione asked. "You know I would have jumped on you and started kissing you right there if you'd done that."

Ron moaned.

"Now you tell me?"

"No really, Ron. What happened?"

"I thought you were happy. I was afraid that you were happy, and that you had moved on and were with someone else. I didn't want you to know how worthless and miserable my life had been since you  
>left. I had built all of my visions of the future around you, Hermione, and you were gone. Didn't know what to do with myself, not at all. So I just let myself go, didn't bother with dating or even my family. Not really."<p>

"You ignored your family? That's terrible!" Hermione admonished.

Ron rolled his eyes.

"Do you think my family would let me ignore them? I tried to, but Ginny caught on instantly and got my sorry arse over to the Burrow for Sunday night dinner."

"Ron," Hermione said quietly, "I told you that I would come back for you. Didn't I promise you I would? Didn't I tell you I'd always love you?"

"Please," Ron snorted. "Honestly, Hermione, like I'd believe you! Haven't you ever grasped how insecure I am?"

"Numerous amounts of times," responded Hermione dryly. "Why do you think we broke up in the first place?" Ron's grip around Hermione's waist instinctively tightened. "Oh Ron," she sighed, exasperated. "I'm not going anywhere. Not unless you want me to."

"Perdita," Ron said, remembering. "Hermione, I thought you weren't going to want me because of Perdita."

"Oh, right," Hermione said, looking momentarily put out. "I suppose in light of everything that's just happened between us she seems insignificant, doesn't she?"

"She does, yeah." There was silence as they stared at each other, soaking each other in. "Well, anyways, I lied to you about being engaged, causing you to lie to me," Ron said obviously. "And at the Burrow that night, with the-"

"Food fight," Hermione finished for him, grinning. "That was the best moment of my life, I swear to god. When you told me that I was always meant to be Hermione Weasley I nearly had a heart attack. I thought I'd gotten a huge amount of whipped cream in my ears and I wasn't hearing right. I was euphoric."

"Glad to hear it," Ron said, grinning at her. "Have we cleared up all the questions yet?"

Hermione nodded.

"I think so."

"Does that mean we can snog now?"

She laughed.

"Well... okay, I'm torn."

"Between?"

"Between getting my body covered with hickeys or going and telling Ginny the good news."

"Er- she knows you're not married to Viktor Krum, right?"

"Of course," Hermione said, waving her hand impatiently. "She just doesn't know that you and I know and that the whole secrets out, obviously. Goodness, she's been keeping both our secrets the whole time! How is her hair not gray yet?"

"No clue," Ron smirked. "It's certainly an accomplishment."

"Maybe she colors," Hermione suggested.

"What?" Ron asked, confused.

"Oh, it's this muggle thing, I guess. We use chemicals to make our hair different colors."

"Weird," Ron said fervently. "Witches can just make any gray hair they have their natural color with a reasonably simple potion. You'd have been able to make it in first year- no beauty potion is nearly as complex as polyjuice."

"My my, Mr. Weasley, was that a compliment?" Hermione said smugly. "I could have sworn you and I had a different way of flirting."

"You want to go back to the bickering?" Ron grinned. "Because I'm not in the mood to pick a fight with you. It'd be halfhearted."

"I'm only kidding," Hermione said honestly. "I don't want to fight with you either."

"Let's shag instead."

"No, wait! Aren't we going to tell your family?"

"Who cares about them?"

Hermione looked a little put out.

"We do. Don't we?"

"Meh. A little."

"At least your mum and Ginny deserve to know! They've been keeping this secret for so long it's a miracle they haven't exploded."

Ron smiled very mischievously suddenly.

"The only reason I agreed to work with Ginny on the wedding was to see if I could get a bit closer to you. Did you know that?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"You agreed so that you could work with all the food," she told him.

"Well, and that," Ron allowed.

"That's funny," Hermione said, leaning down to kiss his collarbone.

"Why's that?"

"Because that's the only reason I allowed Ginny to recruit me. I was hoping that it would inadvertently allow me to spend more time with you."

"We're so pathetic."

"Yeah. It's kind of wonderful."

Ron lifted Hermione off of his lap, then stood up and made his way over to the small kitchen.

"What is it?" Hermione asked, watching him. He pulled a book out of a drawer and began flipping through.

"We're not eating my cooking."

"Why not?" Hermione wanted to know.

"Because we're going out to dinner to celebrate the fact that neither of us are married or engaged."

Hermione bit her lip.

"But if we go out the dinner we'll have less time for shagging," she said regretfully. Ron's head snapped up.

"Okay, compromise," he said reasonably. "Any suggestions?"

"Tomorrow we can eat out and tell everyone that the cat's out of the bag. But for now... well, want to take a bath?"


	22. Chapter 22

Ginny Potter loved her best friend and her brother. She really did, and she wanted them to be happy, the happiest they could be. She had long ago begun envisioning a big white wedding for Ron and Hermione, filled with elegant dresses, purple flowers, and a glowing sunset. And she'd thought about their, future, too. They'd have four kids, Ginny decided, and she and Harry would be their godparents. Two of the kids would be brains, the other two would be athletes. Hermione and Ron would create a fun, happy life with each other and with their children, and everything would be good. She had known for a long time that this was the way it was supposed to be, and, while Ginny didn't like to admit it, she had spent a lot of her life trying to make everything perfect for Ron and Hermione. She failed. A lot. She had failed to an extent that had made her hateable, she had stuck her nose in where it had not belonged, she had messed up the most important and tentative part of Ron and Hermione's love life. And yet she could not stop. She loved what she did, she loved feeling needed. And even when she wasn't needed she loved being there for everything.

Yes, Ginny loved Hermione and she loved Ron. Except just now, they were infuriating her. After all of her efforts, after everything they had gone through, after planning a whole goddamn wedding together, the two were still resisting the urge to let it all go and just be together. They'd had several romantic opportunities, they'd forgone their moral values, they'd always had the perfect setup to be together. To absolutely positively no avail. It had gotten to the point where Ginny had realized there must- MUST- be something psychologically wrong with Ron and Hermione, because never had she ever had such trouble matching two people up. Usually they just went together, easy as pie, and she could add another couple to her list. But Ron and Hermione were preventing her from having a perfect record. And she was going to fix that.

So enough was enough. The only thing standing in the way of Ron and Hermione was Ron and Hermione. Hence, Ginny was going to bump off that problem. No, she couldn't kill them, which was probably what you thought of when you heard the words bump off. But she was going to do the next best thing. She was going to baby them, fix their problems for them. She was going to have a Weasley family intervention. Obviously, when Hermione had sent an owl the day before telling Ginny that she and Ron were going to be coming to visit, Mrs. Potter had known that it was the perfect time for her little plan. It was kismet, in fact. Fate. Destiny. She had set right to work.

Finally, they were all there. George, Angelina, Roxy. Bill, Fleur, Victoire, Dom. Charlie, Mr. Weasley, Mrs. Weasley. Percy, Audrey, Molly, Lucy. Oh, and, of course, Viktor and Lavender. Harry and she were there, because it was obviously their house. All that was left to do was wait. And wait they did. There was a nervous feeling to the atmosphere, a slight tingling feeling in the air. No one knew what was going to happen- when had Ron and Hermione ever been predictable?- but they all thought that it would be big. Nobody spoke, until finally there was a rap to the door, and Ginny swept over to open it.

"How are you?" she asked, a little thrown off by the way Ron had Hermione in his arms and she was leaning against him.

"Brilliant," was the trade-mark Ron reply she got.

"Exquisite," Hermione agreed, glancing up at Ron to grin at him.

"Erm- that's good," Ginny said. Her expression was a bit queasy, and both Ron and Hermione looked questioningly at her.

"Are you alright?" Hermione asked, concerned.

"Yeah," Ginny nodded. "Er- come on in."

They stepped into the house, and Ginny led them over to the living room. Ron and Hermione did a simultaneous double-take as they saw the whole Weasley family sitting on the couch, but both beamed at the sight of them.

"Good, I'm glad you're all here," Ron said happily, and Hermione nodded along with him.

"We have something to say, you two," Lavender said, glancing at Ginny for reassurance.

"Oh," Hermione said, now frowning a bit. "Well, we have news too, then. But you first."

Ron jabbed her in the back, his expression letting on that he thought he knew what was about to happen. Hermione's eyes told him that she knew, too, but she shushed him, thinking that it might be amusing to ride this one out.

"You guys, this is an intervention," Fleur said, looking around all of them with a stern look on her face.

"An intervention?" Hermione asked, feigning surprise. "Whatever for?"

"Secrets and lying," George replied instantly. "As much as I liked it all at first, by now it's gotten boring."

"Is there anything you two want to say to each other?" Mrs. Weasley asked, her expression firm but motherly.

Ron and Hermione considered this.

"Nope," was Ron's easy response.

"No secrets you've been keeping that you need to let loose?" Harry inquired carefully.

For the first time Hermione looked pained, but Ron kept up his nonchalant expression.

"Not that I know of."

"That's enough," Ginny said sharply. "I thought it might come to this. Viktor, Lavender. You go."

The two of them nodded and stepped closer to Ron and Hermione, biting their lips.

"Look, you two. This has gotten out of hand, so we've decided to fix it for you, alright?" Lavender said calmly.

"Everything you've thought for the past few months... vell, it's a lie," Viktor admitted.

"I'm not engaged to Ron," Lavender started, "and Ron, Viktor and Hermione are not and never have been married."

Hermione released a loud, over dramatic gasp.

"OH MY GOODNESS! I HAD NO IDEA!"

"ME EITHER!" Ron shouted, and they both stared at each other with wide open mouths. "THIS IS BRAND NEW INFORMATION! HOW COULD YOU, HERMIONE?"

"YOU LYING PIECE OF FILTH!" Hermione screeched, and then she reached up and slapped Ron gently across the face.

There was a pause until both Ron and Hermione suddenly burst out laughing, and the whole Weasley family stared at them, stunned, as they hugged each other.

"Sorry about that," Hermione whispered in Ron's ear.

"Nah. Don't sweat it. It was kind of sexy, actually."

She swatted his arm, laughing, as she pulled away.

"You knew already, didn't you?" Ginny asked angrily.

"Yeah, kind of," Ron smirked.

"Since when?" Charlie demanded.

"Yesterday around five," Hermione replied. "I found your folder, Lavender."

Lavender giggled nervously.

"I told him to hide it in a good place, but I guess he didn't listen to me."

"That's alright," Hermione said, looking lovingly up at Ron.

"Yeah, it's fine," Ron piped up.

There was silence as the Weasleys and Potters continued to process this information. Hermione and Ron stood there, staring at them.

"I can't believe you knew," Ginny muttered dejectedly. "I was so excited for this intervention! In one word, how would you describe your reactions?"

"Horny," Ron said without thinking.

"RON!" Hermione cried, covering his mouth with her hand. "Euphoric. We were both euphoric."

"Good save," Bill said, rolling his eyes.

"Tell us what happened," Lavender demanded.

"Vord for vord," Viktor added, so they did, quite happily, while leaving out a few of the more private revelations.

"Well," Ginny said, glancing around at all the Weasleys when Hermione and Ron were finished. "I suppose we can all just... leave."

She sounded disbelieving.

"We should get going anyways," Ron said, taking Hermione's hand. "We have a dinner reservation."

"We do?" Hermione asked, whirling around to face him. "Since when?"

"Since I made one yesterday..." Ron replied, frowning down at her. "Remember? I told you about it!"

"If we were snogging at the time, it doesn't count."

"Oh. Well then I didn't tell you about it."

The whole family snorted, and Ron and Hermione blushed.

"Forgive them, they're in love," Fleur said, looking over at a Mrs. Weasley. But she was far from annoyed.

"Well, then, I guess we should go," Hermione agreed, going over to hug everybody. They left the house and Ron dropped Hermione back off at her place.

"Muggle dress attire," he told her, and the curiosity in Hermione's eyes that greeted him made him almost burst in pride. "Be reasonably fancy."

"Okay," Hermione said, kissing him goodbye. "See you in two hours."

She walked calmly into the house, calmly and carefully shut the door. Then she swore. She didn't have a single new dress to wear on this date- Ron had seen basically every dress in her closet. The only new things she'd gotten the past few years was lingerie that Ginny had bought her, though Ron had seen all that, too. She tore over to her closet, panicking, when suddenly she remembered something she had forgotten. She was prepared. She had an emergency dress, a dress so timeless and classic that you could wear it millions of times with different accessories. A dress that women had used through the ages to manipulate men, a dress that no one would ever get sick of.

One day, at the mall, Ginny had made Hermione buy a Little Black Dress. Hermione had always scoffed at the idea of LBDs when her female peers gushed out them, but as soon as she had put one on she had fallen in love. The Little Black Dress was a beautiful creation, the most brilliant thing to be invented since the light bulb. Hermione's was just short enough, showed off just enough cleavage, and hugged the curves she wanted accented while gracefully gliding over the ones she didn't want to showed off quite as much. It was perfect. It seemed as though it had been made just for her, and to be honest it was so comfortable she would wear it all day, every day, if she could.

Quickly, Hermione slipped on her Little Black Dress, then put on a blue shrug with matching sapphire earrings and a matching necklace. She put on very short heels, did her makeup, attempted to tackle her hair, and was ready for Ron when he came. He knocked on her door at exactly the right time, wearing a nice muggle button down shirt complete with a dinner jacket.

"What's with the muggle attire, anyways?" Hermione asked. Ron shrugged.

"I hate going to dinner in places in the Wizarding World. We either see someone we know- effectively killing the romance- or we have a bunch of people we don't know rushing up to us and going 'HEY, AREN'T YOU RON WEASLEY AND HERMIONE GRANGER?'"

"Good point," Hermione said, placing her hand in Ron's. He grinned at her, then turned on his heel and apparated. She closed her eyes and waited until the sensation had vanished before opening them. Her mouth flew open in delight. "I can't believe we're eating here!"

Ron smiled again. He had taken her to their favorite restaurant, one that neither had been to in a long time, due to the fact that it was too much apart of their past. The place served Italian type food, and Hermione argued that it possibly had the best alfredo sauce in the history of the world. Ron enjoyed their bread sticks. Better than the food was the intimate atmosphere of the restaurant- the tables for two were all set up with glowing candles that Ron swore made everyone seem more attractive.

"Well, it holds some brilliant memories, don't you think?" he replied. Hermione nodded wordlessly and Ron led her into the restaurant.

It was a wonderful night, to say the least. Somehow, going to eat here never could seem to go wrong. They ordered easily, chatting about how hilarious their family's reactions to the story had been and a million other things that were insignificant but interesting. Both were extremely aware of the fact that this was sort of like a first date, and definitely the first date they'd had in a very long time. Towards the end of their relationship they hadn't really needed to do things like this anymore. Their couply adventures had become confined to whenever they couldn't sleep. Hermione hadn't ever actually expected the romance to die out, but when it did the blow wasn't too hard. She supposed that with Ron she could have no smoke and mirrors, and, besides, just the fact that she was with him was enough for her. But this time she decided that it would be different. They'd go out to dinner every once in a while, they'd dress up just for the hell of it. She didn't need a perfectly romantic Ron, but she didn't want the whole thing to completely go away.

When it came time to order dessert they decided to share the chocolate cake that they both loved. Ron suggested champagne, but Hermione said that they had work tomorrow and she didn't want to drink at all, so they stuck with coffee.

"Besides," she added as the waiter walked away. "Champagne's for special occasions, is it not?"

Ron hesitated. Then he nodded. There was a comfortable silence until suddenly Ron decided to break it. Steeling himself, he said her name.

"Hermione?"

"Mhmm?"

"Remember how I said that the second you divorced Krum I would propose to you?"

Hermione laughed.

"Yeah. And I said that doing so might not be proper etiquette."

"Exactly. But... you didn't really marry him."

Hermione shook her head.

"No, I didn't."

"So I can propose?"

"Wh-what?" Hermione asked, her eyes widening. And Ron got out of his chair, sunk onto one knee, and looked up at her with hopeful, pleading and loving eyes. He hadn't exactly been sure if he should use the same ring, but Hermione had loved it the first time, and why should that have changed? Besides, it seemed to encourage the whole idea of starting over from the last time that their relationship had been really, really good. Still, he hadn't brought it. They could discuss it another time, if needed.

"I want to start over from here, Hermione," Ron said quietly. "I want to pretend that the past two years never happened, and I want to set a date immediately instead of stalling like we did last time. I want to marry you, and this time I want everything to be perfect. No ghosts of the past. No secrets. No jealously. I'm going to be on my best behavior for the rest of our lives. So please say that you'll marry me."

In hindsight, Hermione supposed she shouldn't have been surprised. This was the first place he had proposed to her, after all. But she hadn't seen it coming, and she'd just thought that this was another night of the town. That said, she was mentally and emotionally unprepared. For some reason, she'd thought she had time. Ron never had been that patient, though. And there had been some foreshadowing that she should have picked up on. How many women had a man they loved propose to them twice, anyways? She forced herself to sit back and enjoy it, even though fear and guilt were starting to build up in her system.

Hermione felt like she couldn't breathe. As she looked down at Ron's earnest and hopeful face, she tried her best to inwardly remind herself to swallow, to stay calm. But panic was beginning to consume her soul, and she could feel the hysteria building up. Ron wanted to start all over, and there was nothing that she wanted more than that. But she couldn't. They couldn't. Too much had happened... things that Ron didn't know about... things that she couldn't change even if she'd wanted to...

And suddenly, Hermione Granger burst into tears. Ron leaped up from his spot and to her, immediately putting his arms around her. She hid her face in his shoulder to stifle the sobs and tried to ignore the soothing words from Ron that she knew she didn't deserve. Patrons and waiters alike were beginning to stare at Ron comforting the sobbing Hermione. Making a split second decision, Ron lifted Hermione up and carried her to the womans' bathroom, where he set her on the counter and waited for her to stop crying. She didn't. He thanked his lucky stars that the room was deserted.

"These... these wouldn't be happy sobs, would they?" he asked tentatively. Hermione shook her head and cried harder. "Is that a no? You don't want to marry me?" Once again, Hermione vigorously shook her head. Utterly confused, Ron held her until, quite suddenly, a patronus materialized in the air in front of him.  
>"Angelina's having her baby, come to St. Mungo's as fast as you can."<p>

Ron glanced at Hermione. He couldn't leave her there, so the only other option was to bring her with him.

"C'mon, Mione. We're going to St. Mungo's, alright?"

She nodded and allowed him to pick her up and set her on the floor. She held onto his hand tightly as they apparated, and didn't say a word as Ron spoke to the mannequin. They arrived inside the hospital and Ron lifted Hermione up one more time so that he could run quickly to get to the pregnancy ward. She clung to him, still crying and attracting many stares. The Weasleys were sitting on a group of plastic chairs for Angelina. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley loved making a big deal out of the birth of their grandchildren, and it was mandatory that everyone come to the hospital when one was happening. The sound of Hermione's wailing echoed all the way up the corridor, and every single Weasley turned to see Ron running with Hermione slung over his shoulder.

"I didn't miss it, did I?" he asked, but everyone was absolutely speechless at the state that Hermione was in. Few people had ever seen Hermione Granger cry, and this was a whole new level of it.

"What did you do to her?" Ginny gasped after a few minutes of awkward staring. "She's a mess!"

"Shut up, Ginny," Ron growled. He sat down in a chair, Hermione situated on his lap.

"What's she crying about?" Mr. Weasley asked, trying to approach the situation calmly.

"I don't know!" a very frustrated Ron said. "I was just proposing and suddenly she burst into tears! I had no idea what to do so I-"

"Wait a minute," Harry said, holding up his hand. "You proposed?"

"Yeah! And then-"

"That'll do it!" Ginny groaned. "Oh, Ron, what have you done?"

"Well, I thought I was making the both of us happy! Excuse me for being twenty five years old and trying to propose to the woman I love. What the hell was I thinking?" Ron snapped.

"No, Ron, you don't understand," Harry said, patting Hermione on the shoulder.

"Help me to, then."

Ginny bit her lip.

"We... we can't," she hesitated. "Ron, go home and get Hermione to tell you."

"Why can't she tell me here?"

"Believe me, she can't."

Hermione cried harder.

"Hermione," Ginny whispered in her friends' ear. "Seriously. It's time. You've got to give it up."

Hermione shook her head fervently.

"I can't!" she wailed.

"You must!" Ginny insisted. "You must, Hermione."

Ron was beginning to lose patience.

"She's got another secret, hasn't she?" he whispered. Ginny nodded, and Ron breathed deeply, attempting to cool his temper. "We'll wait until Angelina has her baby. Then we'll go home." There was a long awkward pause as all the Weasleys continued to stare at the sobbing Hermione. She kept on murmuring the same words over and over again: "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry." After about fifteen minutes, Ron gave up. "That's enough," he said in a loud voice. "Hermione, you are spilling the beans whether you want to or not. Let's go."

Ron forced her to stand up and walked her over to the fireplace. They stepped in and quickly ended up at Hermione's place. Hermione stumbled onto the couch blindly, and Ron began pacing back and forth in front of the mantle.

"R-Ron, I can't do it," Hermione wailed, hiding her face in the pillows. Ron couldn't remember the last time he'd seen her this out of control, or, indeed, if he had ever seen her this out of control at all.

"Tell me now, Hermione!" Ron demanded angrily.

Trying to gather herself, Hermione sat up. Tears were still pouring down her cheeks, and she was shaking. Refusing to make eye contact with Ron, she began to tell the story.

"Remember the night I came back to your house and I saw you with Perdita?" Mouth one thin line, arms crossed firmly over his chest, Ron nodded. "Remember how I had news?" Once again, he nodded. "Well... I never got around to telling you that news, did I?"

"Obviously not. What was it, then?"

Hermione trembled as she looked up at him.

"I was pregnant."

There was an explosion of sympathy somewhere in Ron's body as he looked down at Hermione.

"You mean... you lost the baby?" he asked, his voice gentle. He moved toward her, meaning to comfort her, but a wide eyed Hermione shook her head. Ron stepped away "You put it up for adoption?" he asked fearfully. Even worse than the idea of Hermione loosing the baby was the idea that they had one and he'd never be able to see it or meet it or know what it looked like. Once again, though, Hermione shook her head. Ron breathed in sharply. "Hermione, are you saying-?"

"I'm a mum. You're a dad. We... we have a daughter."


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter Twenty Three  
><strong>_You Lost Me_  
><em>I am done. Smoking gun. We've lost it all, the love is gone. -Christina Aguilara<em>_**  
><strong>_  
>"Tell me you're joking. Please, Hermione, tell me that this is your idea of some sick, twisted joke."<p>

She shook her head, her whole body shaking relentlessly.

"I'm so, so sorry."

Ron stared at Hermione for about ten seconds, his face becoming noticeably paler. Then he exploded.

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL WERE YOU THINKING?" he roared. "I'M A FATHER AND YOU DIDN'T TELL ME?"

Hermione didn't know what else to say, so she just nodded and dissolved into even more silent tears.

"Ron, I'm sorry," she wailed, burying her face in the pillow rather than look at him.

"LOOK AT ME!" Ron bellowed. "You... you..." He seemed to be running through a variety of rude names for her in his head, and Hermione almost felt like filling in the blanks for him, telling him all of the names she felt that she deserved to be called. She had a feeling that this would make him even angrier, though, so she kept her mouth shut, removing her head from the pillow to stare at him with an unwavering, albeit tearful, gaze. "I... can't even think of a proper name to call you," he finished lamely. "Hermione, look me in the eyes and tell me that you're telling the truth. Because I can't believe that you would do this."

She wanted to tell him that she couldn't either, but she didn't. Instead she wiped the tears from her eyes, walked up to him and stared into those azure eyes, watching as the devastation in them became visible.

"I'm not lying. You're a father, and I kept it from you for two years."

Ron turned away, just then, letting his hand come to rest on her mantle, leaning on it as though his life depended on it.

"I don't... understand," he finally whispered.

"What don't you understand?" Hermione said, because she was trying to get herself back into a talking mood. She needed to defend herself, needed to answer questions and, above all, she needed to protect Ginny. Ron could never, ever know the role Ginny played in this whole thing. She wasn't going to sour Ron and Ginny's relationship- they were brother and sister, and that bond had to be more important than the fact that Hermione was in love with Ron. Even though Ginny being incriminated would make Hermione's choice seem a little less awful, Hermione wasn't going to do it. She knew that her relationship with Ron was beyond repair, but Ginny's relationship with Ron wasn't. And Hermione Granger was going to keep it that way, even if it meant that the only man she'd ever loved loathed her for the rest of his life.

"How could you keep this from me?"

Hermione swallowed.

"I... I genuinely don't know how I did it," she said honestly. "Looking back on it, I can't believe I even got through over a year of being a single mum."

"Jesus Christ," Ron said, turning around and gazing at Hermione, soaking in the details of her face as if she was a new person. "You're a mum."

"Uh-hu," Hermione said. "Sorry for the lack of adjustment period. Though I don't think that makes a huge difference. I had forty-eight weeks to deal and I'm still in shock."

Ron did not laugh, not that Hermione had expected him to. His face was crumpled in defeat as he looked at her.

"I'm a dad," he said, his tone disbelieving. "And I'm a terrible dad."

"No you're not!" Hermione said instantly, sticking up for Ron even though she knew in a few minutes he would be tearing her down. "You're going to be a wonderful dad."

"I missed over a year of my daughter's life. I am a terrible dad."

"It's not your fault."

"Why, Hermione?" he said, ignoring this. "Were you ashamed of me? Did you not want your brilliant little daughter to be seen with fumbling, blundering Ron Weasley?"

Her eyes widened, the tears falling thickly, never stopping.

"No, of course not! Ron, I am so, so proud to have you as the father of my little girl. I never wanted anyone else to be the father of my child, you have to know that."

He really didn't understand.

"Did you think I'd be a terrible dad, so terrible that my child shouldn't ever know me?"

"It was never my intent to keep her from you forever, Ron. And I know you're going to be a wonderful father, a truly wonderful father."

"I'm a horrible dad," he repeated.

"It's not your fault," Hermione cried, her voice sounding as though someone was choking her.

Suddenly, his face changed.

"No, that's right. It's yours, because you're a selfish bitch."

Hermione's mouth opened in shock.

"Wait just a minute!" she said, anger beginning to flare up. "Ron, what I did was wrong, but it was anything but selfish."

"What the hell makes you think that?"

The disbelief that Hermione was feeling was extraordinarily evident on her face, but Ron couldn't see where she got off saying that she was selfless.

"Don't you understand how hard it was for me?" Hermione said desperately. "Every single day of my life I had a bloody reminder of you and me and what we were either inside of my body or outside of it! There was always something that was taunting me that I was doing the wrong thing, and telling me that I could never be with you because of what I had done to you! I felt like I was raising my own downfall in our relationship sometimes."

"Are you saying you regret it?"

"Regret what?" Hermione asked, not understanding. "Regret not telling you? Honestly, yes."

"No," Ron said coldly. "Regret raising our child."

Hermione raised her eyebrow.

"What gave you that impression?"

"You talk about it like it's the hardest thing you've ever had to do."

"That's because it is the hardest thing I've ever had to do. But it's not the worst. I love her with all my heart. She's... she's beautiful and she's perfect and I wouldn't throw that all away."

There was silence. Ron buried his head in his hands and tried to think.

"Okay, okay, okay," he said, breathing deeply and looking up at her. "Let's just... take this slow."

He knew he'd eventually work himself into an even bigger yell, but for the time being his head was relentlessly buzzing. He noticed that he and Hermione were sitting in the exact position as they had been two years ago when they broke up. His back was to her but he was leaning into her somehow as her thumbs made comforting circles on his arms. It seemed that this was purely instinct for both of them, but Ron was so disgusted with Hermione he got up and away from her as soon as he had realized what they were doing.

"Sorry," Hermione said hoarsely, and Ron shook his head as though attempting to clear it of everything.

"Tell me about her," he demanded, but when she looked into his eyes she saw how much he craved and needed this information. She also saw apprehension. He was frightened, but she didn't know what he was frightened of.

"What do you want to know?" she asked breathlessly.

"Name," Ron said shortly. "What's our daughter's name?"

Our daughter. No one had ever said those words to Hermione before, especially not someone who meant to her what Ron did. While normally those words would make her want to scream with delight, this wonderful emotion was shoved aside by the weight of the situation they were in. Hermione wished now that she'd fully appreciated the last few kisses she'd gotten from Ron. She knew that she would never be receiving another one, and it was this thought that nearly made her want to take it back, tell him that his intuitions were correct, that it was indeed a joke. She was almost on the verge of doing this when she stopped herself. How beautiful and freeing would it be to finally let Ron Weasley know the name of their daughter? She needed that. It would be accepting him into the little life that she had created, the one that never seemed quite full enough because she had always wanted Ron there. It would be like an early release from a prison she had gotten a life sentence for. Hermione wanted him to know. She wanted Ron to know their gorgeous brilliant daughter and she wanted him to love that little girl just as much as she did.

"Rose," she said, her voice cracking. "Our daughter's name is Rose."

"Rose," Ron croaked, testing this out. "Er- why Rose?"

"I wanted a name that started with an R," Hermione said blushingly. "My grandmother's name was Rose, so I just... went for it."

"It's beautiful," Ron admitted, half talking about the fact that she'd wanted to name the child after him in a way. Dammit, Weasley, he thought, you can't be seeking approval from her anymore, or giving a damn about what she thinks about you. Stop caring! "I should have known you'd come up with a perfect name like Rose," he added dryly. "It's so you, really. Simple but great."

Hermione stared at him, not knowing how to reply to this. He was complimenting her, and yet she knew that he was about to break her heart as she'd broken his twice now. Maybe even three times.

"Any more questions?"

"How old is she?"

"Nineteen months."

Ron swore.

"When's her birthday?"

"October eleventh."

"Who's she more like... personality wise?"

"Well, she's a baby," Hermione said cautiously. "But so far she's shaping out to be an amazing mix. She's smart like me, and she's agile like you. She has our stubbornness."

"We should have known that if we brought a child into the world it would be extremely stubborn." Hermione laughed painfully, and Ron decided to move the question game along. "Hair?"

"Yours."

"Eyes?"

"Mine."

"Last name?"

Hermione turned red as she spoke. "Er... yours."

"You're kidding?" Ron said, shocked. "How could I not find out about her sooner if you were using my bloody surname?"

"She's been living in France most of her life," Hermione reminded him gently. "Besides, ever since she's gotten back she's been spending most of her time in the muggle world."

"Hermione," Ron said slowly, "why didn't you tell me about her that first day when we got back? Why wasn't it the first thing out of your mouth?"

"God, Ron, what do you think? I was scared out of my mind! What was I supposed to say, anyways? 'Hey, Ron, long time no see! Remember when we used to shag like all the time? Well, it turns out we screwed up on the contraceptive spell once and your sperm fertilized my egg so YAY!'"

"Sarcasm is not going to get you anywhere," Ron warned as he fought the bizarre urge to laugh. Hermione Jean Granger is not funny, and you will laugh at nothing she says, Weasley.

"Speaking of shagging, where has she been while we were doing that at your place?"

"My parents," Hermione said, her eyes sinking down to the floor. "She... she lived with them for a while. After I saw you for that first time, after my job interview, I had a bit of an emotional breakdown. I felt like a completely incompetent mother, couldn't look at or be around Rose without wanting to cry. I sort of had a form of depression. So she went to them, and they've been taking care of her since I got back. I visited regularly, of course. Every day more than once- whenever I wasn't at work or with you I was with her. It got easier as time went on."

"Who else knew? From our group of friends, I mean."

Hermione avoided his eyes.

"I told Harry and Ginny very recently," she said. "And other than them... no one."

The next thing he said was in such a horrified tone Hermione felt her heart break a little all over again.

"You did this whole thing alone?" She nodded. "You went to a foreign country and raised your baby all by yourself, along with having a job," he said blankly.

"Whoa, wait a second! I didn't have a job! How the hell was I supposed to raise our baby and have a full time job simultaneously?"

"You abandoned the once in a lifetime opportunity?"

"For Rose? For Rose I would do anything. I think I'm proving that by telling you about this whole thing."

"How so?" Ron asked heatedly. "How is telling me about MY daughter proving that you'd do anything for her?"

"I'm doing this for her! I could have gone my whole life without telling you about her!"

"You couldn't have done that," Ron argued. "I just proposed to you and you wanted to say yes- I know you did. But you couldn't because of this goddamn secret that you just had to keep."

"Ron," Hermione said slowly, "we weren't ready to be parents. We were twenty-two years old and we'd gotten almost nowhere since the war. We had so many problems we were forced to split up even though we were in love with each other. If I had told you, Ron, you would have felt tied down! You would have fallen right out of love with me- which I realize now I have effectively made you do anyways- and you just would have spent the rest of your life resenting me. I gave you a chance. You got to date a little more. You got to be a bachelor. You got to stay out late drinking with your friends. You could come and go as you pleased without having to worry about a wife and a daughter that you were steadily loosing interest in."

"You have absolutely no faith in me," Ron whispered. "I thought you loved me, but obviously you don't know me at all."

"What are you talking about?"

"I would have been overjoyed, Hermione! Bloody hell, we have a baby! Do you know how much I would have loved to be there for the pregnancy, for the birthing, for her first word and first step and... how could you have so little faith in me?"

"Not you," Hermione protested. "Me, Ron. I had little faith in me, and my ability to keep you in love with me and wanting to be with me forever and... I didn't want you to have to make the choice to be with me at such a young age. But I know you would have been happy at first, and an amazing father, to boot. I just didn't want to force you into anything. And now that I see it from your point of view I realize how stupid I was, but I was just so, so scared, Ron! All I could think was that I was ruining my future, and I wanted you to have a bright one. I was so scared you would stop caring about me."

"No I would not have!" Ron said indignantly. "Hermione, I was in love with you! I would have happily spent the rest of my life being with you and taking care of you and the child. Why the hell else do you think I proposed? I wanted children, I wanted multiple children and you... you ruined it!"

"Oh, I ruined it?" Hermione said, laughing without humor. "I ruined it, did I? I wanted to tell you, Ron. As a matter of fact, I came back to tell you the second I had the news. It's not my fault you decided to fall into bed with some cheap little girl that looked like me minus the bushy hair."

"Don't call her a little girl!" Ron insisted. "That makes it sound creepy."

"It is creepy, Ron."

"How so?"

"YOU HAD SEX WITH A WOMAN YOU BARELY KNEW ABOUT A WEEK AFTER WE BROKE UP! YOU WERE THINKING OF ME THE WHOLE TIME AND YOU KNOW IT! YOU DON'T THINK THAT'S CREEPY?"

"No," Ron said stubbornly. "Well, a little," he sighed, caving. "But I got to have sex, didn't I?"

"Fair point," Hermione said in the lofty voice she used when trying to really hurt someone. "Oooh, as a matter of fact, lets everyone just hop into bed with someone else just because it's fun!"

"I'm sorry," Ron whispered, disarmed once more. "But you left and you tore me apart. Would you believe me if I said that I thought it would make everything better? I... I thought I could get over you by sleeping with her."

"Did it work?" Hermione asked, her voice emotionless.

"Not really," Ron said blandly. "I mean, maybe for a few seconds. But it was a different experience with you."

"Because?"

"Because it didn't mean anything with her. With you it meant something. It was something. And I didn't feel immoral every time we had sex, but I did with her."

Hermione was staring at him now. She had just realized something that made her heart clench with fear and despair. He wasn't going to want her anymore. He wasn't ever going to want to hold her or probably even speak to her, much less sleep with her. Merlin's pants, she was never going to have sex again! Good thing they'd done it a lot when the whole fake cheating thing had been going on. As this thought crossed her mind she realized it was also crossing Ron's, and he was looking at her very peculiarly.

"Jesus Christ," he groaned. "Why are we thinking about sex at a time like this?"

Hermione had a number of sarcastic answers, none of which she wanted to divulge. So she shrugged.

"I wish I knew."

"Let's take the focus off of Perdita and bring it back to you, shall we?"

"Be my guest."

"There's just so much I don't know about her!" Ron said, sounding frustrated. "Like her first word, or when she started to walk."

"She started to walk a little less than a month ago. Her first word was mum," Hermione said calmly. "Then it was duck. Then it was dad."

"D...dad?"

"Dad," Hermione said firmly.

"How... what..?"

"If you met her, Ron, she'd know you."

"I... I... how?" Ron asked, still unable to form a proper sentence.

"I wanted her to know you. I wanted her to be comfortable with you if the two of you were ever to meet. Children are very impressionable at her age, and so I filled her room with pictures of you, and you and me. I would point to them and say daddy every single night. I would tell stories of you and me while we were in school. It was the hardest part of raising her," Hermione added. "All I wanted to do was forget, but I felt that I had to do this for her and for you. So I had to remind myself of us every day, I had to look at pictures of me and you while we were happy."

Ron stared at her. He couldn't imagine putting himself through that. While Hermione had been gone, he'd tried his best not to think about her, tried his best to just forget her so that he could block out the pain. But not only had she had his baby, she'd gone as far as to teach that baby about her father.

"I want to meet her, then," Ron said shortly.

"Do you want to be apart of her life?" Hermione asked cautiously. "Because if you don't I'm not going to put her through that."

"What do you mean by that, Hermione?" Ron spluttered. "Why would I not want to be apart of her life?"

"She's your illegitimate child. She's a reminder of a relationship with me I know you're not going to want to have. She's-"

"-amazing," Ron finished. "You said so yourself, and I want to meet her. I want to see how beautiful and smart she is, and I don't care that she's yours because she's also mine."

God, what a lie, he groaned inwardly. I care so, so much that she's yours. She's yours, Hermione! She's ours! We did it. We had a child. We wanted that so much. What the hell happened to us?

"Okay," Hermione said nodding. She looked like she was on the verge of tears again, and she seemed very nervous just at the idea. "Well, you can send me an owl when you're-"

"What?" Ron asked, not believing what he was hearing. "Hermione, I want to meet her now."

"No," Hermione said shortly. "Absolutely not."

"WHY THE HELL NOT?"

"First of all," Hermione said, looking directly at him even though he was scaring her a little bit, "Rose is probably asleep right now."

"So what? Wake her up!"

"Haven't you ever heard to never wake a sleeping baby? Imagine how hard you are to wake up in the morning, except five times worse."

"I don't bloody care!" Ron insisted.

"Also," Hermione continued, "you're not ready."

"Excuse me?"

"You need time to prepare yourself for the idea! You can't just go and meet her in a highly emotional state like this! I want you to calm down before you meet our baby!"

"NO!"

"Ron, look. Think about it, consider what having a child with me is going to do to your life. If you still want her, contact me. If not... don't."

"Hermione, I want to meet her right now!"

Hermione shook her head, making her way towards the door.

"Sorry, Ron, but no."

She threw the door open and gestured for him to leave. Stubbornly, Ron sat down.

"I'm not leaving."

She stared at him, her face impassive, disguising the thundering of her heart. Then she shrugged.

"Suit yourself. Door's open if you want to leave. If not, take a kip on the couch."

She walked to her room and slammed the door shut. Ron heard the lock click before he heard the sound of her muttering a spell that would soundproof her door. If he were to make any noise at all, she would not hear it. Unable to stand that idea, Ron rushed forward and began beating his fists against the door, screaming threats and curses at Hermione. She made no move to open the door, and she obviously couldn't hear him.

"HERMIONE! OPEN THIS GODDAMN DOOR! OPEN IT, YOU AWFUL LITTLE-"

After about an hour of this, Ron slumped to the floor, drew his knees to his chest and let a few frustrated tears leak from his eyes.

That bitch had kept him from his baby. And now she had the power over him. She had Rose, and he did not. So he was going to do exactly what she asked. He was going to go home and calm down and then he was going to send her an owl. And after that he was going to meet his little girl.


	24. Chapter 24

It seemed to Ginny that, no matter how hard she pounded on Ron's door, he was never going to open it. She stared at the pristine white color, knocking her fist against it, but it remained where it was. Had Ginny not heard the clink of bottles against a table, she would have guessed that her brother was not home. As it was, Ginny had hoped that her brother would leave the house instead of flipping out and staying there. It was different if he went away. When Ron went away it meant he was really angry, but if he locked himself inside... that was when you knew there was a problem. With Ron, the running away was preferable. It meant that his emotions were high enough to manage by moving, by getting out of the situation. Plus, Ginny was off the hook for berating him, as she couldn't do that when he wasn't even home. But when Ron locked himself into his house, it meant that his emotions were too much to handle, too much to do anything about. That was when you knew you were in trouble.

"RONALD WEASLEY!" Ginny screamed in her best imitation of her mother. Molly seemed to be the only person who could get Ron to do anything besides Hermione. Ginny figured that if she could sound like her mother she might be able to scare him into opening the door. "I SWEAR TO MERLIN, IF YOU DON'T OPEN THE DOOR WITHIN THE NEXT TEN SECONDS I WILL KNOCK IT DOWN MYSELF!"

Silence. Ginny stepped back, directed her wand at the door and, for the sake of Ron, attempted to use alohomora. It didn't work. She cleared her throat, directed her wand towards the door and waved it in a circle. The door crumbled to pieces, and Ginny strode confidently into Ron's home before waving her wand to repair the door. As Ginny turned back towards Ron, she saw that Ron's face remained completely expressionless. The woman put her hands on her hips and glared at him, taking in the recently grown beard on his chin. Yikes. If Ron wasn't shaving it meant that they were probably going to be in this predicament for a while. As she watched, Ron raised a bottle to his lips and drank generously. Ginny raised her eyebrows angrily, then snatched the bottle away from him. From her purse she procured a sobering potion.

"I'm not drinking that," Ron said, slurring his words slightly.

"I will force it down your throat if you don't drink it yourself. And you know I can."

"I don't want to be sober," Ron argued childishly. "It's awful."

"Look, I know you're upset, but I need to talk to you. Sober."

Ron stared at her, and she raised her wand threateningly.

"Fine," he grumbled, taking the potion and sipping it. He gasped as the headache suddenly hit, and Ginny nodded, satisfied.

"There," she said. Sighing, Ron sunk even deeper into his chair.

"I hate my life. I want a new one."

Now Ginny's expression was concerned. She sunk onto the couch across from Ron, keeping her eyes on his face. Her response was so simple Ron wondered if it really was Ginny sitting there and staring at him.

"I know."

The man took in her expression, purely filled with guilt. He frowned.

"Why do you look like that?"

Her brown eyes, so different from Hermione's, flicked away from his, coming to rest on the bookshelf leaning against the wall. One glance at her hands showed Ron that she was wringing them together, agitation so strong it was like an aura around her.

"Don't you hate me?" she burst out, biting her lip as she continued to look away from him.

"Why would I hate you?" Ron asked, puzzled.

"Because of my involvement in the whole thing!" Ginny cried, leaping up and beginning to pace.

"Involvement?" Ron repeated, now thoroughly confused.

"This whole mess is my fault!" Ginny moaned.

"How is it your fault?" Ron responded, staring at her oddly. "You found out about two weeks ago."

Ginny stopped pacing and turned to stare at him.

"What are you talking about?"

"What are _you_ talking about?"

"Hermione's baby," Ginny said, kneading her hands together.

"Yeah, that's what I'm talking about too."

"Ron, what did Hermione tell you about Rose and me?"

"She said that she'd told you and Harry a few weeks ago and you were still trying to decide whether or not to tell me when _she_ told me."

Ginny swore loudly, causing Ron's eyes to snap open in shock.

"Oh god," groaned Ginny. "She... she lied to save me, didn't she?"

"What are you on about?" Ron snapped, an anxious feeling suddenly developing in his stomach.

"She didn't tell you the truth," Ginny breathed, amazement on her face. "And she must have made herself sound so much worse in the process."

"Ginny," Ron hissed, now feeling supremely frustrated, "what happened if she lied to me? Tell me the goddamn truth, for once!"

"Okay," Ginny said hastily, and she began her pacing once again. "Two years ago, I was at your home, cleaning up after you because you sure as hell weren't cleaning up after yourself."

"Right..." Ron said, his expression still vexed.

"I was in the kitchen when an owl flew in. I recognized it as Hermione's, and seeing as we hadn't seen hide nor hair of her in months I... I opened it."

"You opened my mail?" Ron said angrily. "How many times do I have to tell you not to go through my stuff?"

"Okay, I recognize that me doing so is annoying to you, but it's not the most imminent issue here."

"Sorry," Ron said, only slightly ashamed of his outburst. "Er- what did the letter say?"

Ginny sighed.

"I thought you'd ask that. Granted, I figured you already knew more than you did when I got here. But still, I brought it."

"You've kept it all this time?"

"You don't throw something like this away," Ginny told him as she handed him a very torn and faded piece of parchment, across which endearingly familiar and gorgeous handwriting appeared.

_Dear Ron,_

_I want to thank you for your letter- the one you sent to Viktor Krum. He forwarded it to me and asked me if maybe I should reconsider. It was too late, of course. I'd already seen you with that woman, already realized that you were done with me. But it was that, and the other news I have, the news I'm about to tell you, that has really made it a struggle for me not to come running back to you. And as you know how awful I am at sharing personal feelings, you must have known that those words were extremely difficult for me to write down. But what the hell. I'm going all out for this letter. This news, Ron... well, for months it's just become a more pressing issue to tell you. So I suppose I must. I hope you don't hate me once I do._

_Ron, I'm going to have a baby. It's yours (obviously) and it's a girl. I know that you're probably quite busy with your new relationship with that woman I saw you with, which is why I'm giving you a choice. Ron, if you don't want to be a father, you don't have to be one. She'll inevitably be yours, but you don't have to be hers. If that makes any sense. Oh, and by the way... she's a kicker, our daughter. I'm convinced that she's going to be a Quidditch player- probably a Keeper, because they're the ones that use their feet sometimes, right? God, Ron, I already love her so much. She's yours and mine and I didn't know I could ever love someone so much without ever meeting them._

_Oh god. I just reread that sentence. Ours. Ours, ours, ours. You, Ronald Weasley, and I, Hermione Granger, have a baby. If anyone had told me when I was seventeen that you were going to be the father of my child one day, I can't imagine how joyful I would have felt at the idea that we made it. Except we didn't. We were close, though. So close. I never wanted it this way. When I pictured having a child with you, I had this whole image of how I would tell you I was pregnant. It certainly wasn't through a letter. It was wonderful. Maybe I'll save it._

_Today is the start of my eighth month. She's almost here. Well, if you want to contact me just send a letter with this owl. If you send her back without an answer I'll know you don't want to be apart of our lives. And I'll accept that. Enjoy your time with Perdita. I wish you happiness with whoever may offer you that. Good luck, Ron. Always, -Hermione._

He read it quickly, soaking in her words and telling himself over and over again that he wasn't in love with her. He felt like his heart was breaking all over again reading her words. He could feel the ache behind them and realized how badly she had wanted him to know, how much she'd wanted him in her life. Which made him wonder why she had initially made the decision to keep Rose from him. It couldn't just be because she didn't get a response- she knew that he didn't know. She must have known, it was impossible that she didn't. But what had changed? A nagging feeling in Ron's stomach told him that his little sister may have played a much larger part in this fiasco than he had initially thought.

"What happened next, Ginny?" Ron asked, surreptitiously pocketing the letter so that he could peruse it a thousand more times later.

"I was going to tell you," Ginny said, her tone desperate, "honest, I was Ron! But then I peered into the living room and I saw you. Drunk as hell, you didn't seem to be in any fit state to be a father. Not then, and not in the month you would had to recuperate, and being the father to Hermione's child wouldn't help. It would take away the pain for a little while and then you would be stuck facing the same problems."

"We loved each other," Ron pointed out.

"And you still do."

"Who are you kidding?" Ron asked angrily.

"No one. Who are you kidding?" Ginny retorted.

"I'm not going to argue with you about this," Ron snorted. "What happened next?"

"I went home with the letter. I talked myself into sending the owl back without your response, simultaneously breaking Hermione's heart."

Ron's eyes began to water and he cleared his throat several times before allowing himself to speak.

"I want to ask you how you could do that to me, but I think I'd prefer not to know."

"Next, I realized that what I'd done was wrong. So... so I paid Aimee a visit."

"What the hell does Aimee have to do with any of this?"

"She promised to keep her eyes peeled for Hermione, to notify me when she got to the hospital. Less than a month later I got an owl. Hermione was at St. Mungo's. Her mum had dropped her off only to realize that muggles can't get in. She had just given birth and she was all alone."

"Oh god," Ron said, horrified. "Oh god."

"I went to the hospital and I found her there and... do you want to see it?"

"How?"

"Pensive." Ginny said simply. "Didn't Hermione have one?"

Ron bit his lip.

"Yeah, she did. I'm not sure whether or not she took it, but if she didn't it would be in the den," he managed to choke out. With a curt nod, Ginny exited the room, coming back a minute later coughing, her nose wrinkled in disgust.

"When was the last time you cleaned in there?" she asked, clutching the pensive.

"I don't remember," Ron replied.

"I'm shocked," Ginny said sarcastically. "Oh, by the way, you have a boggart in a desk drawer," she added, putting her wand to her temple, about to draw out a memory.

"Wait!" Ron cried, snatching her wrist with his hand. "Ginny, are you sure you want to lose this memory?"

"It means more to you than it does me," was Ginny's response as she took the memory from her brain, a resolute expression on her face. "Here," she finished, dropping it into the pensive. Not altogether convinced he was ready to see this, Ron took a deep breath before falling into the memory.

_Her face was pink but glowing as she stared down at the small bundle in her arms. Ron couldn't see his child because of the way Hermione was holding Rose, but he thought that his daughter had a very long body for an infant. He decided that this meant Rose was going to be tall, and then turned his attention back to Hermione. She was cradling Rose with tears in her eyes, half smiling, half crying. As Ron watched she bit her lip in a way that showed nervousness, then reached up a trembling finger to stroke the little girls' cheek._

"_Oh god," Hermione whispered, breaking down into tears more completely. "He doesn't want us, Rose, but we're his. What a mess." She wiped the tears from her eyes, seeming angry at herself for crying. "Rose," Hermione said, her expression determined, "I promise that you will know him but you will not need him. I'm going to ensure you never know how much I miss him and want him with us. He made a choice, and you are not going to be effected by your father's idiocy."_

_Ron was startled as Ginny stepped out of her hiding place. He had known she would appear in the memory, known she must have seen all this, but he was so focused on Hermione he'd forgotten. Apparently, his ex was startled, too. She shrieked in surprise, then attempted to rearrange the warm pink blankets._

"_Trying to hide her hair?" Ginny asked, sitting on Hermione's bed. "Don't bother. I know she's Ron's. Who else's would she be?"_

_"Viktor?" Hermione suggested half heartedly. "Draco Malfoy? McLaggan?"_

_"Yeah right," Ginny snorted. There was silence as the two of them stared down at Rose._

"_Ron doesn't want her," Hermione said finally. The pain in her voice was so raw Ginny visibly winced._

"_You don't know that."_

_"Oh yes I do. I sent an owl-"_

_"An owl that I received and intercepted," Ginny finished for her._

_Hermione's eyes bugged out of her head._

"_You did what?" she screeched, causing Rose to begin to cry. Hermione tried to set aside her seething emotions and comfort her baby. Ginny just sat there, her expression unchanging and ever patient. "Did... did you show him the letter?" Hermione asked, her expression still disbelieving._

_Ginny snorted._

"_It's nice that you think I'm a good enough person to do that, but no, I did not show him the letter."_

_"So Ron doesn't know that I just gave birth to his child," Hermione said, struggling to keep her emotions in check._

"_No, not at all. He's currently at home drinking his troubles away."_

_Hermione's hand flew to her mouth._

"_We have to tell him."_

_"We can't tell him."_

_"Why not?" Hermione demanded, her face red with anger as she attempted to be gentle with Rose._

_"Because he's a mess right now," Ginny said sadly._

"_Over what?" Hermione inquired._

"_You," was Ginny's short response. "He misses you and he wants you back."_

_"I want him back! In spite of everything, even Perdita, I can't bloody stop loving the man!"_

_"Oh Hermione. Don't you see? Taking Ron back won't change anything."_

_"So what am I suppose to do?"_

_"Give it time," Ginny suggested._

"_Ginny," Hermione snapped, "we have a baby. There is no such thing as time when you have a child. Either I tell him now or I suffer the consequences later."_

_"Hermione, he acts like a twenty-three year old child. It's been nine months and he is still in a ridiculous depression. He spends all his time at work, and the few minutes he spends at home are spent exquisitely drunk. He is a mess, and he isn't fit to be a father."___

_Ron winced at her harsh words, but refused to look away from the nightmare unfolding before him._

"_But it's his right!" Hermione was arguing. "Besides, maybe being a dad will pull him out of his depression."_

_"No," Ginny said harshly. "You don't understand. You haven't seen him. We... we can't fix him like that. He has to do it on his own. If you go back with him the two of you will be facing the same issues that you were before. Besides, we can't indulge him like that. You train a baby to stop crying at night by leaving it alone."_

_"But that's exactly the issue! The baby. Rose changes everything."___

_"If you let him be a dad now, he will be a horrible father," Ginny stated, articulating her words very carefully._

"_I hardly think-"_

_"Yes it will make a difference!" Ginny exclaimed, leaping up from the bed. "Look, Hermione. If you tell him now this is how your life is going to be. You're going to get married because you have to. Ron will still be jealous. You'll still hate yourself for working too much. And you both will still lean on your past to ensure that you don't have to grow for the future. Except that's even worse with the kid. You'll fall right out of love with each other, you'll stop being affectionate, you'll stop having sex. Everything in your life will boil down to resentment. Rose will sense it and it will wreck her childhood and scar her for life."_

_Hermione stared at her, stricken._

"_Oh god," she said eventually._

_"Yeah," Ginny agreed._

"_I can't tell him."_

_"No, you can't. Not now anyways."___

_"When do I tell then?" Hermione asked, pleading for answers._

"_When he's ready," Ginny responded, looking nearly as heartbroken as Hermione, "and I promise I'll tell you when he's ready. You know how important family is to me. I wouldn't be asking if it wasn't completely essential. And I know I shouldn't be here in the first place, but I'm a Weasley. We meddle."_

_Hermione sighed._

"_Okay," she said, just as a nurse came in._

"_Excuse me, Ms. Granger," she said, coming over to the bed with a clipboard at the ready. "You haven't told me the details of what you want on your baby's birth certificate."_

_"Right," Hermione said, looking nervous again. "Yeah, right."_

_"I'll go," Ginny said, flashing a weak smile in Hermione's direction. "I'll be back later."___

_She stood up and acted like she was going to leave, but quickly ducked behind a curtain. Ron knew she wanted to see what her niece was named._

_"Her first name is Rose," Hermione said quietly. "It's my grandmother's name, and the first letter of her father's. And the middle name is Elizabeth, for my wonderful mother."_

_Ron saw Ginny smile softly, the melancholy look disturbingly evident on her face._

"_And her last name, Ms. Granger?" the nurse asked tentatively, noticing Hermione's hesitation and the lack of a man in the room._

"_Weasley," Hermione whispered, a tear slipping down one of her cheeks._

_The nurse's eyebrows shot up. Everyone in the wizarding world had heard of the heartbreaking split of Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. There was now no doubt in her mind as to who the father was. Motherly as she was, the nurse picked up instantly on the look that Hermione's face wore as she spoke Ron's name, so nostalgic and gentle, but not without pain. It was then that the nurse realized what others had only guessed at. Hermione Granger was still in love with her ex fiancée. Sympathy was practically radiating from the older woman as she requested Hermione tell her what name should appear on the birth certificate as Rose's father, just to follow procedure even though she knew who it was.___

_"Her father," said Hermione, tracing a line on Rose's soft cheek and letting a watery smile appear on her face, "is Ronald Bilius Weasley." Shaking her head, the nurse walked away. "He doesn't know," Hermione sighed happily, falling back against the pillows, "he might still want us, Rose. He might have us someday."_

Ron felt himself get tossed out of the memory as waves of pain washed over his body. He hid his head in his hands, once again unwilling to let Ginny see this emotion he was feeling. Watching that moment was unreal, a privilege he had never thought he would be privy to. It was such a private moment in Hermione's life, he couldn't believe he had seen it, and it made him warm inside when he thought of the look on her face when she'd realized he hadn't known. That meant he hadn't rejected her, it hinted at the idea of a possibility of the future.

"She's been back for months," he stated, now glaring at Ginny as a surge of anger came over him.

"Why didn't she tell me? If she wanted me so badly, that is."

"What part do you think telling you should have been done at? 'Hello, long time no see'? Or maybe when you were at each other's throats pretending to be married and engaged. Or, oooh, wait, how about during that whole part where you were shagging each other silly every minute of every day," Ginny snapped. Then she paused, her voice becoming softer. "Besides, she was scared."

It was the same reason Hermione had given, but Ron didn't think it was any excuse at all. Alright, she was scared, and for good reason, too, but that didn't mean any of it was right.

"That's extremely stupid," he said, rolling his eyes at Ginny.

"And yet you still love her."

"I don't!"

He turned away from Ginny, pretending to be indignant. It was some time before she spoke again, but when she did her words hit Ron like a ton of bricks.

"She's leaving."

"What?" Ron asked, springing around.

"She's leaving for France."

"When's she coming back?"

"Never."

Ron tried to pretend like the panic he felt consuming him was from the idea of losing Rose, when in fact he was terrified at the idea of never seeing Hermione again.

"Er- what?" was his confused response, because his brain was still trying to comprehend this idea.

"She told you to contact her when you were ready to meet Rose. It's been weeks and you- hot headed, impatient Ron Weasley- haven't done so yet. She thinks that's your way of saying you don't want Rose."

Ron's first thought was to wonder how Hermione could think so little of him if she had known him so long. Then he realized that she didn't think little of him- she thought little of herself. And that was half of why this whole situation had arisen in the first place. But then the pity left him and was taken over by that alarm he felt at the prospect of losing Hermione and his daughter.

"Bloody hell," Ron swore, ripping the door to his home open and dashing outside.

"Where are you going?" Ginny shouted after him, but she wasn't surprised when Ron didn't answer her. "That's my boy," she muttered triumphantly, watching him spin on the spot and disapparate into thin air.

Ginny suspected quite correctly that Ron had brought himself to the Granger residence. She knew that was where he knew Rose was, and was sure Hermione would be there too. Upon reaching the Granger home he sprinted up the small steps to the door and slammed his fist against it. It was opened almost instantly by an older woman who let out a small squeak when she saw Ron.

"Ron!" she gasped, her eyes widening. "What are you doing here?"

He was glad Mrs. Granger remembered him. Then again, it was probably hard to forget the father of your daughter's daughter.

"I need to see Hermione," he said firmly.

"How did you know she was here?" asked Mrs. Granger a little faintly, but she was jostled aside as a gruff man came to stand next to her.

"Sorry, son. You can't come in."

"And why not?"

"You've caused my daughter enough heartbreak," he said, narrowing his eyes. "I'm not letting you near her."

"You don't know what's best for her! She's twenty-five, she can make her own choices."

"The choice to move is because of _you_. So I'm going to do her a favor and make sure she doesn't see you before she leaves."

"Like hell," Ron roared, and then he pushed past the two of them and up to Hermione's room, skipping up the stairs three at a time. Unceremoniously, he threw the door open what he saw took his breath away. Hermione, not having heard him come in, was seated in a rocking chair, a small redheaded child in her lap. She appeared to be telling Rose a story, but Ron had no problem interrupting it. He cleared his throat and Hermione's head whipped up, while Rose's whipped around.

"Ron!" Hermione cried, shocked. Her eyes turned from him to Rose, and Ron too focused on the child. His hair, Hermione's eyes. She was a beautiful and perfect mix of them, and he felt love he didn't know he possessed burst through his system. Rose glanced curiously at her mother, then back at Ron.

"Daddy?" she asked questioningly. Ron bit back the urge to swear as he realized how much he was shaking. Hermione was trembling, too. Somehow she managed to nod her head.

"Yes, daddy," she replied, her eyes leaving Rose to stare up at Ron. "That's your daddy."


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N: Well, this is the final chapter, unless I find the time to write the epilogue that I have been planning on writing for quite a long time. It will happen eventually... probably. Anyways, I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart if you have stuck with this story even through all of the crazy ups and downs and spin arounds. Especially if you were one of those who defended me against the flames and hate. I appreciate that so much. Thanks for reading! ~writergirl8**

Rose frowned slightly, glancing from Hermione to Ron, taking in the pain in their eyes and written on their faces.

"Oh my god," Ron whispered, gazing down at her with a soft smile beginning to find its way onto his face. "Hermione, she's gorgeous."

A beam slipped across Hermione's lips, and she lightly caressed Rose's cheek.

"Yeah, she is."

His throat felt parched as he walked closer, kneeling so that he could see Rose better. Her skin had his tone, and her hair had his texture and color. Her eyes looked like Hermione's, and she had Hermione's nose, as well as the light array of freckles that were dusted on top of it. He reached out to touch her, then looked to Hermione for permission.

"Can-?"

"Do you want to hold her?" Hermione asked, cutting him off.

"Yeah," Ron breathed. "Yeah, I do."

She stood up, then handed Rose off to Ron, causing him to nearly fall apart with exhilaration as he stared down at the little girl. Rose reached a hand up and felt all around Ron's face. She tugged at his long nose, pulled his hair, and memorized his eyes, smiling as she did so.

"Daddy!" Rose breathed, excitement consuming her facial expression.

"I'm glad I get to meet you, too. And II think you're going to be seeing a lot of me," he told her, and she beamed at this. He wondered if all kids this responsive or if Rose was just exquisitely smart. Knowing that she had Hermione's genes in her, she was probably a super genius. She'd probably end up being just like her mother- except with better Quidditch skills. He had always been saddened by the fact that he couldn't play Quidditch with Hermione. She tried for his sake, but she was laughably terrible. Though Ron did suppose that it was nice when she had to ride behind him with her arms wrapped around him. That could be pretty romantic if you did it with someone you were snogging regularly.

His daughter fit perfectly in his arms, clinging to him happily, her expression peaceful while Hermione looked at the two of them. Ron sat down in a chair with her and asked her questions, trying to make up for the year he hadn't known her. He asked Hermione things that Rose wouldn't know, and she answered, tears swimming in her eyes as she watched the two of them. Throughout the whole time Ron was there he point blank refused to let go of Rose, and he stayed with her and Hermione late into the night. It clicked almost immediately that the creature he was holding in his arms was his child, and the wave of emotion that rolled over him was so powerful and instant he felt himself go weak at the knees, like he was a silly eighteen year old doing new things with Hermione that made him nervous as hell. They'd made her nervous too, back then, which was what made it tolerable, but Rose seemed to find being with her father rather easy, like the situation wasn't at all tense or awkward. Hermione and Ron took her lead. It was a while before Mrs. Granger finally came into the room and pleaded Ron to leave so that Rose could go to bed.

"I'll put her to bed," he said instantly, and he stood up and walked with Hermione to the room that Rose was staying in. Carefully, he lowered his daughter in the crib, then gave her forehead a kiss.

"Mummy too!" Rose said, "mummy kiss me goodnight, too, daddy!"

So Hermione stepped forward and she too kissed Rose, and then she took Ron back to her room and they sat on the bed and soaked in the colossal event that had just occurred. Ron tried to solidify the memory in his mind forever, the moment he met his daughter, but the buzzing in his mind was making it impossible to think. A part of him was thinking about his child, and the other half was thinking about how cool it was to be sitting on Hermione's childhood bed.

"Wow," Hermione said, looking sideways at him.

"Wow," Ron agreed.

"You were absolutely amazing," Hermione said warmly. "You really were."

"Thanks." There was a pause, then: "Don't go."

"I'm sorry?"

"Don't leave. Please don't go to France. I need her."

"Okay," Hermione said instantly.

"What?" Ron said, shocked. He'd been gearing himself up for an argument all night, and this was far too easy.

"I didn't want to go in the first place," Hermione admitted, glancing apologetically at him. "I was just..."

"Scared?"

"I'm scared a lot these days," she sighed.

For some reason, he understood. He wished he didn't.

"So what are we going to do about this whole thing?"

That was the most awkward thing of the whole situation, wasn't it? What were they actually going to do about Rose? Living together wouldn't work, but both Ron and Hermione wanted to spend as much time with their daughter as they possibly could. As much as Ron hated to admit it, Rose probably needed Hermione more than she needed him. After all, the little girl had grown up with Hermione, but Rose had only just met her father. Hermione bit her lip, mulling it over and knowing that what she really wanted to do was marry him so that they could just live together and she'd never have to go a day without her Rosie.

"Muggles... they have this thing called a custody agreement," Hermione said tentatively. "Perhaps we should go into one of those? Share her?"

Ron studied her face, frowning, then nodded.

"Yeah, sounds good. Sharing is caring, right?"

Hermione laughed at the feeble joke, then sighed.

"I'm glad you met her. I'm glad I taught her to know you."

"It was brave of you to do that," he admitted.

"Thanks," Hermione said, smiling slightly. "How about I go into work and have a friend draw the agreement up for me, then we can meet for coffee at Saturday at one. Browns?"

"Sure," Ron said. "Sounds fine."

There was an awkward pause.

"Er- should I show you out?"

Ron understood that, as much as he wanted to stay until it was time for Rose to wake up, this was his dismissal. He nodded and stood so that Hermione could show him to the door. They silently walked down the expensive mahogany staircase, Hermione's hand trailing on the wooden railing as if it was the one comfort that was keeping her standing. She pulled the door open and Ron walked through it. When he didn't hear it close right away, he stopped and turned to look at her. She was leaning against the door, her cheek pressed against the cool material, and she was watching him, traces of love still in her eyes in spite of everything that had happened.

I. Don't. Love. Her.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked, his tone teasing but eyes serious.

"Your beard," she admitted, and as she spoke he tried not to think about the way the moonlight illuminated different streaks of color in her hair. "Even though you barged into my parents' home, had a fight with my dad, and forced your way into meeting your daughter, at least I got to see you with a beard."

"And the verdict?"

She studied him more, and he stayed perfectly still. He could tell by the look in her eyes that she thought he was better looking without it, but that, for some reason, she still thought he was gorgeous with it. A strange feeling appeared in his stomach, and he found that he couldn't shake it off.

"It's not my place to say," Hermione settled on, her eyes drifting away from his face for the first time. "Not anymore."

And as she closed the door her unspoken words lingered tauntingly in the air.

Because you don't love me.

And he didn't. He didn't love her. After everything she had done to him, how could he possibly, possibly love her? It was absurd, the idea, so ridiculous that he had no idea why he was bothering to fathom it. And he lay in his bed, drifted through the halls at work, and went about all his meals convincing himself that he was not in love with Hermione Jean Granger. He found very quickly, however, that this task was no easy feat. He had done everything! He had listed in his head all the reasons he was supposed to hate her. There were so many, and they were all so easy to come by. But if there were so many, why did he still dream about her at night? Why had those idiotic butterflies returned when he thought about her? She had given him the most intense stomach flutters at school, but over the years they had simply gone away. Now he was twenty-five and they were back full force. Seriously- that was what let Ron know he was pathetic. He was sure that twenty-five year old males were not supposed to get butterflies in their stomaches, much less than when they were thinking of a woman they were not in love with. For merlin's sake, he was a father now! He couldn't go around having romantic feelings about the mother of his child. He couldn't, because he did not want her!

Lying on his bed on the Saturday he was supposed to meet Hermione at Browns, he tried to reason with himself. She was just Hermione, just a woman. There were plenty of other fish in the sea, he didn't need that one. Now that he was over her he could find anyone. And he was sure their past would not inhibit him from doing so. After Hermione's betrayal, nothing about their past meant anything to him. He didn't care about her. He didn't care that he'd known her since he was eleven. He didn't care that she'd been his first real crush. He didn't care that she'd been his first shag, either, or about the fact that he'd never seen another woman so beautiful as she was. Because caring would mean that he still loved her, and loving her would mean that he forgave her. And forgiving her would be the most pathetic thing he'd ever do, if he did it.

It was perfectly normal, Ron decided, to feel the way he felt about Hermione. After all these years it was probably an instinct, right? Even though he didn't love her, he just always tended to notice the little things, like how beautiful her eyes, hair, or lips were. But that wasn't because he wanted her. Even though whenever he happened upon her in the halls at work and accidentally brushed up against her he had the strong urge to snog her until they were both out of breath, he didn't love her. He wouldn't, he couldn't. There was no way Ron Weasley could ever be with Hermione Granger again.

Right?

Sighing, Ron rolled over. He stood up and found himself face to face with the mirror. For the first time in quite a while, Ron actually studied himself. How was it that he looked so different than he remembered? He had huge bags under his eyes- he hadn't slept properly in an immeasurably long amount of time. When he and Hermione had been... well, shagging constantly, there was very little room for sleep. And these past weeks had been full of staying up all night and reviewing his life, trying to figure out where it had gotten so messed up and why Karma was being such a bitch to him. Not to mention trying to convince himself that he didn't love Hermione anymore. Besides his eyes, he had a small beard and it looked like his lips had forgotten to smile. It was his face, really, that had changed the most- his altogether face. He looked older, wearier. Sadder. He'd lived through the war and yet, as an auror, he'd seen and experienced so much since then. It definitely showed. Disgusted with himself, Ron turned away from the mirror. He couldn't believe he had let Hermione see him like this. Then again, she'd still looked at him like he was the most handsome man she'd ever seen. Which was really wonderful, because it showed that she'd always think of him that way, no matter what he looked like. And wasn't that what you wanted in spouse? Someone that would look at you like that even when you were old, wrinkly and gray? But- no. He couldn't think like that! He didn't care about Hermione Granger one bit. However... he was going to be seeing her later that day, so he should probably pull himself together before then.

Ron went over to the bathroom. He finally shaved. Then he checked his watch. He had four hours until he was suppose to meet Hermione at Browns coffee shop. Until then, he was going to clean. He couldn't have Rose see what a mess her father was. His mum had dropped off a crib for her a few days ago. He hadn't really been up for talking to her, but her expression and tenderness showed how awful she was feeling. When she happened upon the picture of Ginny that was in the kitchen, she went absolutely rigid with anger. Ron had never seen his mum so ticked off at his little sister before. It wasn't like Ginny didn't deserve it.

He decided to put the crib in Hermione's old office room. Unfortunately, that place needed a major airing out. He poked his head in, directed his wand toward the blinds and they sprung up, along with the windows. Ron breathed a sigh of relief. He hadn't breathed air in such a long time. It made him miss Quidditch. He backed out of the room, then headed to the other parts of the house that needed attention. The whole house came alive. The vacuum went around to all the rooms, completely by itself. A couple of dust mits glided unaided around the living room, den and Ron's bedroom. A scrub brush went about cleaning the dishes. A disinfectant wipe and toilet scrubber took care of the bathroom. And then there was only one thing left to do. The boggart Ginny had found in the office.

Ron headed over to the office, his nervousness starting to take over his system. He had encountered very few boggarts in his time, as Hermione, determined as she was to keep everything sanitary and neat, usually took care of them. She would come back from these experiences shaking and Ron would take her in his arms and hold her while she cried. After the war, boggarts were even scarier. Ron hadn't been forced to face one since he was nineteen, so he didn't know what it was going to be. He knew that Hermione's boggart was him dead, knew that she always needed to hold him and make sure that he was there and solid after facing one. But he wasn't sure- now that he wasn't in love with Hermione anymore- what would happen when he opened that cabinet. Would it be the spider all over again? That he could face readily, easily. But it seemed so childish, given everything that had happened in his life. He checked his watch- two hours to spare. Sure he could handle the boggart and get himself past the fear in half an hour tops, he took a deep breath and directed his wand toward the cabinet. Suddenly, Rose was lying on the floor. Her red hair was mangled, dirt all over her cheeks, her dress ripped to shreds. Evidently, she was dead. His baby daughter, his beautiful baby daughter, the one thing in the world that was both his and Hermione's, was gone. He almost lost his head, but the image of Rose's giggling face danced through his mind, and he remembered that it was a boggart. Keeping that image in his head, he pointed his wand at the boggart and said, "RIDDICULUS!"

There was a whip-like sound and the boggart changed. But it didn't become giggling Rose. Apparently Ron's spell was completely incompetent, because the boggart then became something that shocked him. Hermione lay on the floor, screaming as though Bellatrix was torturing her again. This time she was her current age instead of eighteen, and instead of purely screaming as she thrashed on the ground, she called Ron's name, begging him to save her.

"NO! HERMIONE! HERMIONE!" he roared, fright and anger coursing through him. He couldn't move, and he wondered why.

"RON! RON, HELP ME!"

And suddenly the flailing stopped, the screams stopped, and Hermione was lying still, eyes and mouth wide open. Her expression and eyes were slack and vacant, and her arm was lying at an odd angle, showing fresh blood trickling from her mudblood scar. All rational thought left Ron's mind as he stared down at the limp body of the woman he was in love with. Fear and hysteria clouded his mind, because he couldn't save her this time, and that was the most terrifying idea in the world. He forgot the body was a boggart as he sunk to his knees and began to cry. The sobs racked through his body, impairing his view, and yet he already had the image of her branded into his mind. As her gorgeous brown eyes stared unseeingly at the ceiling, only the small rational thing in the back of Ron's mind that told Ron this was a boggart kept him from throwing his body over Hermione's and hugging her to his chest. He wanted to rock her back and forth, breathe air into her lungs, because if he didn't he was sure he would lose her and a world without Hermione was utterly pointless. His life without Hermione was awful, terrible, and dark. He wasn't living it.

He wasn't living without her.

She wasn't sure why she had chosen this, out of all places, to meet with Ron, but there was one thing she was sure of. Whatever happened while the two of them were there was going to life changing. There was a sense of anticipation in the air, but there was also a strong sense of dread. Her hands were shaking as she stared down at the contract that was going to ruin everything she had rebuilt with her daughter. She'd spent the last few months unable to trust herself enough to live with Rose, and now that she had recovered Ron was going to take Rose away from her. It wasn't his fault- in fact, it was all her fault. He had every right to take Rose away from her, and, as a matter of fact, Hermione felt like he was being kind by agreeing to share their daughter. But still. No longer was Hermione going to be able to see her baby every day. Rose would be spending half her time with Ron, and when she was with Ron it meant that she wouldn't be with Hermione. Yes, most of Hermione was in anguish over this fact.

And yet there was another part of her that was happy Ron was there to disrupt their life. Now there would be someone to go through the same things she was. Now someone else would have to help her with the hard decisions. Nothing about Rose was completely on her shoulders- if Hermione made a mistake it would be Ron's fault too. And when Rose hit some milestone that had Hermione weeping relentlessly, Ron would probably be tearful too. Come to think of it, Rose was going to be the one thing that kept Ron in Hermione's life. He would always and inevitably be there for the rest of her days, and Hermione wasn't sure whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. While she did love him and always wanted him to be in her life, she wasn't sure of the manner he'd treat her in. Aside from that, Hermione wasn't looking forward to the day she had to watch him marry some beautiful stranger that he loved with all his heart- given, of course, that she was invited to the wedding. She was sure that it was going to happen eventually, but it made her feel nauseous. Nobody would ever love Ron as much as she would, of that she was sure. But she thought he could probably love another person more than her, because he was right. She was a self centered bitch. He had been so amazing and loving and wonderful to her, and this was how she repaid him. By being a brown-nosing, know-it-all, hideous, boring work-o-holic. He should have never loved her in the first place. He could certainly love another person more. He was better than her, he deserved better than her.

Hermione stared around the coffee shop as she absentmindedly stirred her coffee. The warm bits of stream drifted up from the cup, teasing her nose with its delicious smell. She wanted to drink it so badly, but she knew that if she did so she would regret the loss of the drink. For three reasons, really. Number one, the drink gave her something to do with her hands. Without it, she wouldn't have a thing to distract her from biting her fingernails or clenching her fists in her anger or sadness or self-hatred. Number two, the drink was tasty, and if it was gone she'd be much too tempted to buy another one. Number three, the drink was warm. Rain was pouring down outside of the window- beautifully reflecting Hermione's mood- and while it was the delightful, warm rain that you would expect for the month of May, something about the color of the sky made Hermione want to curl up with her gorgeous daughter, a hot chocolate, and a very good book on the couch. Unfortunately, this ridiculous meeting with Ron was preventing her from doing so.

And he was late. Annoyingly late.

Hermione decided to People Watch. People Watching was fun. She and Ron used to do it when they were dating. They'd go out, grab some ice-cream, then sit on a bench in a crowded area and make up stories about the people around them. If Rose were here, Hermione probably wouldn't be forced to entertain herself in this painful manner. At the last minute, however, she'd made the decision to leave Rose at home, on account of the serious nature of the meeting. Rose was spending her last day with her Grandparents before she moved out of Hermione's childhood home and came back to live with her mum. Her mum who, instead of spending her Saturday with her daughter, was sitting in a coffee shop filled with memories and people. Zooming her gaze around the room, Hermione decided to give a story to the first person her eyes landed on. That person was an attractive blond woman with concerned eyes gazing and nodded a an equally good looking man. Third date, Hermione guessed. He's telling a story and she's pretending she cares while secretly wondering what he looks like with his shirt off. She let out a little snort. Ha. I used to do that with Ron when he talked about Quidditch. And I'd bet money he did the same when I was going on about House-Elves.

"Thinking of stories?" asked a deep voice, startling Hermione from her stupor.

"Um, yeah," she said, before adding, "you're late."

He discarded this comment.

"Give me a person," was his response.

"Oh, alright," Hermione said squeakily, and then she nodded her head in the direction of a brunet woman wearing frumpy clothes and large glasses, talking happily to a much better looking man who seemed to be hanging onto her every word. "Her."

"Right," Ron said, and he mused for a few seconds before picking a story. "They work together. She's been in love with him for years, and he's loved her almost as long. He's going to ask her out on a date, and she's going to appear with a sexy dress and no glasses, therefor finally looking hot. The man will realize that sometimes, not being superficial pays off generously. They're going to get married and have kids with her smarts and his compassion."

The story sounded familiar.

"Nice," Hermione commented. "I like your take on the woman."

"Yeah, thanks," Ron said, mouth forming into a lopsided smile, "Can't take all the credit, though. I know a girl like that."

"Do you now?" Hermione asked, laughing.

"Well, she's prettier," Ron admitted.

The laughing stopped abruptly. Hermione stared at Ron, confusion dancing across her face before melting away and giving into a flustered expression.

"Um... yeah." He grinned at this reaction, causing Hermione to swallow nervously. She hadn't thought she needed to prepare for a Ron with this attitude. Angry Ron, sad Ron, emotionless Ron. Not teasing, playful Ron. She wasn't sure how to deal with those- it wasn't like she had prepared for this. When she had been nervously practicing comebacks in front of the mirror, they had not been for this mindset of Ron's. "So... erm, we'd better start looking at the custody agreement, huh?"

"Hermione-" Ron started, but she shook her head frantically as she slapped the paper onto the table, eying it as though it was something dangerous and disgusting. She couldn't speak to him, not now. She couldn't get her mind clouded with confusion.

"Okay," she said, staring down at it. "It says that you'll have Rose every Sunday to Tuesday, and on Wednesdays we'll alternate per week. Then I'll have her from Thursday to Saturday. We will hold holidays together so that Rose isn't forced to have two holidays and hate us for it. We'll buy gifts separately while still conferring so that the presents aren't the same. Next, we-"

"No," Ron said, causing Hermione to look up from the document with shock on her face.

"What?" she said. "You don't like the holiday thing?"

"Not particularly," Ron stated, his tone bratty.

"Well, I suppose we don't have to do that," Hermione whispered, her expression slightly heartbroken as she reached over to cross it off.

"Hermione, it's not enough," Ron said firmly. "I need more."

"More time with Rose?" Hermione squeaked, her face visibly paler. "No, I'm sorry. I can't do that. I can't let you have her more than this. I need her, I love her, I raised her. And I can't go longer than this without seeing her."

"There's a way around that, you know," Ron whispered, staring into her eyes. Hermione shivered at his deep gaze, looking terribly confused.

"There... there isn't," she protested.

"How about I write it down?" he suggested quietly, and Hermione shook her head, eyes wide.

"Ron-"

But he tugged the contract over to him, twisted Hermione's self inking quill from her grip and wrote words carefully on the contract, ignoring her burning gaze as he did so. It didn't take him long to write, and he swallowed nervously before passing the contract back to Hermione.

I, Ronald Bilius Weasley, promise to marry Hermione Jean Granger. I promise to remain devoted to our daughter, and to have at least one other kid so that we can get it right at least once, and to take a travel-less job in the ministry so that she never has to spend a night alone again. I promise that I will do these things (and more) not because I feel obliged to but because I love her. Because I do love her, I always have loved her, and I always will love her. No matter what.

Hermione's hands were badly shaking by the time she finished reading. Her heart seemed to have leaped into her throat, and she looked up at Ron with huge eyes.

"Wh-what is this?" she asked, voice trembling frantically.

"I give up," Ron said simply.

"Excuse me?"

"I give up trying to act like I don't care, pretending that I don't love you. The honest truth is that I can't live without you."

She stared at him, confused.

"Ron... stop... stop whatever you're doing."

"What am I doing?"

"Trying to... I don't know, I don't know what you're trying to do. Just... just stop it!"

The last thing was said in a more shrill, panicked voice, causing a couple of people to turn towards them, curiosity on their faces.

"Hermione," Ron said quietly, "I'm not trying to do anything."

"You're tricking me or something," Hermione decided, her eyes wild. "You're trying to make me hope!"

Ron lost his temper almost instantly. He raised his voice, and more people turned to look at them.

"Why the hell would I do that?"

"Revenge!" Hermione decided, nodding her head. "Revenge because I hid Rose from you. That must be it."

"HERMIONE!" Ron yelled. He stood up abruptly, causing his chair to fall down. "How the bloody hell could you accuse me of doing that? Do you know me?"

Now everyone was quiet, staring at them with surprised looks on their faces.

"Of course I know you," Hermione cried, standing up as well. "How could you suggest I don't?"

"So why are you-?"

"Because this is too good, Ron!" she said, tears beginning to well up in her eyes. "I betrayed you, you can't love me... I'm not prepared for this!"

"Why do you have to be prepared for everything?" Ron responded impatiently. "Honestly, take a risk!"

"I've risked everything before," Hermione whispered, pausing to bite her bottom lip. "It doesn't usually work out well, Ron."

"Hermione," he sighed, his voice pleading, "believe me. I love you."

"Why?"

"Because you're Hermione," he said, reaching out and brushing a piece of hair away from her face. She flinched away from him. Huffing impatiently, Ron geared himself up to yell at her again. Then he noticed the crowd watching them. Without hesitating, he grabbed Hermione's arm and pulled her roughly outside, ignoring her protests ("The custody agreement is going to get wet! Stop it, Ron!"). Rain poured down on their heads, and Hermione took a second to appreciate how cliché this moment was before rounding angrily on Ron.

"What's wrong with you?" she asked heatedly.

They were both so into their argument, neither of them noticed the large crowd of people that was pressed against the window, trying to watch their fight.

"Nothing, what's wrong with you?" Ron counted.

"Nothing's wrong with me!" Hermione argued, but Ron made an indignant noise and cut across her.

"Usually when a man you're in love with tells you he wants to be with you, you're supposed to be overcome with joy. You aren't supposed to push him away."

"But you can't mean it!" Hermione groaned, hiding her head in her hands. Ron faltered.

"What?"

"You can't mean that you love me!" Hermione continued. "You think you do, but you don't."

"Believe me," Ron said, prying her hands gently away from her face. "I definitely love you."

"Well if you think you love me now, you'll stop loving me later," Hermione said, refusing to accept this for what it was.

"No I won't!" Ron said, so pissed off his face was turning red. "I will never fall out of love with you, we will never fall out of love with each other!"

"How do you know?"

"I know because we've wanted each other since we were teenagers. You knew me through all my bad haircuts, ugly outfits, voice cracks, bad jokes, and acne onslaughts. And you still want me, all these years later."

"Well-"

But Ron wasn't done.

"And I knew you when your personality was seemingly insufferable, when your hair was completely out of control, when you got those little zits in random places on your face, when you had no clue how to use makeup and on the rare occasions you tried you failed epically. I still wanted you all those years ago and I do want you now. It took a boggart to prove that to me, but I know it for a fact."

She was dripping wet, and he was dripping wet, and they were just staring at each other. Her light purple dress was plastered to her body, and his white t-shirt was doing the same on him. He could see in her eyes that her defenses were wearing down, that she was going to agree, and he took in deep breaths to calm himself down. She spoke after a little less than a minute.

"What about this?" Hermione asked, indicating to the contract.

"Screw it," Ron said, and then he took it from her, ripped it in half, and kissed her.

She clung to him, and he lifted her up in the rain, her hands lost in his hair, her eyelashes tickling his cheeks. It was sensual, kissing in the rain, but they didn't focus on the romance of the situation. Instead, as they kissed, they focused on the fact that this was a kiss that solidified forever, that they would always be together from that day on.

It didn't scare either of them. Hermione pulled back, and Ron stared up at her, as he was still holding her, lifting her up above him.

"You said you wanted to marry me."

"I do," he promised.

"Do you have a ring?" Hermione asked, tenderly stroking a wet strand of hair away from his face.

"I do," he repeated. "If you want it."

"Why wouldn't I...?" but her question was answered as he reached into his pocket, pulled out a ring, and showed it to her. "It's the same one," Hermione breathed, staring down at it. In her minds eye, she saw herself throwing it at him, hurt displayed all over her face. He nodded.

"Do you want it?" he asked.

"Oh, yes. Yes, I do."

And so he slipped it onto her finger for the second time, where it would remain for eternity.


End file.
